


Angelus

by scifinut



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 36,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifinut/pseuds/scifinut
Summary: What if the Catholics had it right all along? Nine choirs of angels, one archangel to rule each other choir. But when Lucifer fell, an entire choir became hostile to God and mankind alike.
Sam and Dean are investigating some weirdly strong demon activity in a small town in Iowa. What they find there will take them around the world and into a realm where even the angels aren't what they seem.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is set mid season 9, any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Enjoy!

It was late evening by the time Sam and Dean rolled into the small town. As usual, they got themselves a motel room on the outskirts, the cheapest most run-down place they could find. As they settled themselves into the room, Dean flopped himself backwards across the bed. "So, this is the place?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "All sorts of demonic markers. Higher levels than I've seen anywhere in a long time. We're talking near-apocalyptic levels." He set up his laptop on a table and powered it on. "But nothing lasting, it's all there and gone again. Massive blips."

"I dunno, the town didn't seem too bad, really." Dean looked over at his brother without sitting up. "I mean, nothing torn up or anything, and if this was really ground zero in the demon civil war, you'd think there'd be some collateral damage. I mean, demons don't really seem to be the type to clean up nicely after themselves every day. Hell, even angels don't do that."

Sam sighed. "I know. Everything was just so normal." He started typing, looking up recent instances that would point to demonic activity. "It's weird. It's like there's all the signs of demons, but the demons aren't actually here."

"Let's go cruise the down, then. Try to draw them out. I'm pretty sure no matter whose side they're on they're going to recognize us." Dean sat up and tossed his keys into the air, catching them and smiling at Sam. "Besides, I haven't done any joyriding in a while."

"I think I'll stay here and keep looking into things," Sam said. He was tired from the full-tilt speed they'd been going at recently. All he really wanted was a nice meal, a hot shower, and a few hours to sleep.

Dean stood and closed the laptop, nearly catching Sam's fingers. "C'mon, Sammy. If this town is really crawling with demons, do you really want to split up?"

Sam sighed and shot Dean an annoyed look. "Alright, can we at least wait until we get the room secure before we go anywhere?" He stood up and began the ingrained ritual of lining all the doors and windows with salt and shifting furniture to engrave protection sigils into the walls where they wouldn't be easily seen and destroyed. He noticed Dean helping out, and within a few minutes they were ready to go.

The town was like any other small midwestern town. The old downtown area was clearly defined, and suburbs had grown up around it. Without the interstate, the city hadn't grown any since it had been founded, but neither had it faltered. Some of the older men they passed by nodded appreciatively at the car, and the young boys watched it pass with wonder and desire. The town was nothing but normal on the surface, and Dean and Sam could see no evidence of anything unusual as they drove through.

After a time they finally stopped at a greasy spoon diner on the other end of town from their motel. The brunette behind the counter waved at them when they walked in. "Have a seat wherever, I'll be with you in just a second," she said before heading back into the kitchen. They took a seat in a booth along the front wall and took menus from a holder.

"Look," Dean said, pointing at the menu. "Best burgers in Plymouth County, as voted by the residents." His eyes lit up as he read, and he grinned stupidly.

Sam just rolled his eyes and looked over his own menu. There wasn't much of a selection of salads, but the meatloaf and dressing looked interesting.

The woman came to the side of the table, pad of paper in hand. "Sorry about the wait. What can I get you boys to drink?"

"Just waters, thanks," Sam said. Dean just smiled up at her.

"Two waters, coming up. And just so you boys know, my evening cook never showed up. I'll do my best to keep an eye on your drinks, but I'm running the place alone tonight, so just holler if you need anything. My name's Betty." She smiled at them and walked away, coming back within a minute with their drinks. "Now, you figure out what you want to eat yet?"

"I'll have a cheeseburger, extra bacon, with fries," Dean said.

Sam looked at Dean then looked back at the menu. "I think I'll have the same," he said. It wasn't his first choice, or his second, but it would be easy to make the same thing twice than it would to make two separate orders. He glared at Dean before he could say anything as Betty headed into the kitchen.

"So, nothing out of the ordinary?" Dean asked. "What's with the sudden change in diet?"

Before Sam could respond, an explosion leveled the building across the street. The windows were blown out with the explosion, and Sam and Dean were thrown across the diner into the counter. Betty burst through the door to the kitchen and swore loudly. She rushed over to where Sam and Dean lay crumpled against the counter, covered in fragments of glass and plaster. "Come on, boys, be okay," she pleaded at their unconscious forms.

Sam coughed and shook his head weakly. His ears were ringing, and as he cracked his eyes open and looked around. The pain in his body made him wince, but he shook it off internally and sat up, leaning on the counter. "Dean?" he slurred, reaching over to his brother.

"Hold still," Betty said, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "You're hurt. It'll be okay, I'll get you to the hospital when this is all over."

"No, get back to the back room," Sam said to her. "It's not safe."

Dean sat up slowly, blinking his eyes and trying to figure out what was going on. "Sammy?" he said, reaching out.

Betty sighed. "I had hoped I was wrong about you boys," she said. "Let me guess, hunters? And you're here about the demons, and you're going to run out there and protect me, right?"

Dean looked at Sam, then to Betty. "Yes?" he said, still dazed by the explosion.

"Well I don't need it. And you two need to stay put. You're hurt. Matthew will be here soon, it'll all be okay then."

"Matthew?" Sam asked. "Who is that?" He was still slurring his words a bit, but feeling better than he had when he first sat up. "And how do you know about demons?"

"Better yet, what makes you think we're hunting anything?" Dean added. He sat himself up, leaning heavily against the counter. His head was still spinning a bit, but it didn't seem to be too terrible, and it was fading fast.

Betty sighed and shifted her weight so she was squatting comfortably. "First of all, you haven't denied being hunters. If you were actually game hunters, you'd know that nothing's in season and defend yourselves early or be accused of poaching off season. Secondly, neither of you flinched at mention of demons. Third, and best of all, I KNOW you. You can't lie to me about this, boys." She shook her head and took a deep breath, despite the dust still settling.

Both of the boys looked at each other, confused. "Don't get me wrong," Dean started, "I'm not too great with faces, but I'm pretty sure we've never met before."

Betty rolled her eyes. "Would it help if I talked like this, then?" she said, her voice changing to a posh British accent. "Come on, nothing? What about all the good times we had together?" she asked, reacting to their confusion.

"Are you a demon?" Sam asked plainly. He wasn't in the mood to be messing about with this.

"I'm shocked and appalled that you would think such a thing," Betty replied. "The base implications alone are simply dreadful."

"Alright, not a demon, we get it," Dean said. "Jesus Christ."

Betty sighed. "Wrong again. I don't think he's had the dubious pleasure of your company yet. But closer." After a long pause, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Okay, boys, I'm going to spell this out very carefully for you, but you're still going to have to work for it. Matthew doesn't know who I am, and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible, so think as hard as your little tiny minds can." She opened her eyes and looked intently at them, one at a time. "Look at yourselves. Look at each other. Take a good hard look. Then look at that window that you were sitting next to. I'll wait."

Sam looked over at Dean and frowned. Aside from a few smears of blood on his face, he looked unhurt. He reached up to wipe the blood from his own face and was surprised when there was no pain. He could see a similar confusion on Dean's face. "What the hell?"

"I told you, wrong direction," Betty snapped. "Try again, and be quick about it. Matthew will be here soon. I'm surprised it's taken him this long."

"Look, we've dealt with plenty of supernatural crap over the years, so how about you spell it out a bit plainer for us, okay? I'm not in the mood for twenty damn questions." Dean winced in anticipation of sitting up further, but then looked more confused when nothing hurt.

"You're an angel," Sam said quietly.

"Half credit for the boy giant," Betty said, slipping back into her midwestern accent. "And that's all the time we have now. Matthew's here." She stayed squatting in front of the boys, not looking over her shoulder at the man walking through the door.

He was completely average looking, nobody would spare him a second glance on the street, but as he approached them his features morphed into something more recognizable.

"Gabriel?" Sam asked, more confused than ever.

Betty was on her feet in an instant, turning and glaring angrily at Matthew. "You! I knew it had to be someone, but YOU!" Her voice had changed back to the British accent. "Let me guess, you've been causing all the problems in the first place, yes?"

Gabriel opened his arms and made like he was going to hug the woman, but she pushed him backwards. "Hey there, no need to be mad. I got those chuckleheads here, didn't I?" he asked, motioning to the Winchesters, still sitting against the counter amid all the glass. "Besides, it's good to know I'm not alone in this. Though if I'd known you were really-"

"Don't you DARE say my name," Betty interrupted. "I've done well enough to stay hidden. Those two figured out what I am, but I will NOT have you telling them who I am." She jabbed her finger into Gabriel's chest angrily, making him retreat a few steps.

_Relax, sister,_ came a voice into Betty's head. _I'm not even certain who you are, though I can tell you're on my side in all of this. All I was going to say was that you were another angel._ She did relax visibly, taking a step back from Gabriel.

_It's me,_ she responded, chuckling. _Hardly a sister, big brother, though I suppose I can forgive you your mistake._

Gabriel's eyes widened. "Well, color me surprised!" he said aloud. He looked past Betty to the two boys and waved his hand, pulling them to their feet. "Up you go, geniuses. Come on, we've got a war to plan." He looked back to Betty, a wide grin on his face. "You can be in charge of weapons procurement."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Balthazar?"

"Well look who finally decided to bring his brain to the party," Betty quipped. "Now both of you can split the genius award for figuring it out." She turned back to Gabriel. "I don't know why he sent you here, but I was here for her specifically. I'm not jumping right onboard with your plan until I know what it is."

Gabriel touched two fingers to Balthazar's forehead, passing the plan along directly to her brain. He smiled as she digested the information rapidly. "You like it? I think it's got a certain flair, myself."

"Whose plan is this, yours or his?"

"He gave me the outline, I filled it in. And don't worry, Dad made sure I knew how to lead, and he trusts me." Gabriel once again turned his gaze on the Winchesters. "And now it's your turn." He reached out his hands and stepped around Balthazar.

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa, hold on a minute, you're not beaming anything straight into my brain. No way," Dean said, trying to take a step backwards. He ran straight into the counter behind him.

"Aren't you both supposed to be dead, anyway?" Sam asked.

"You disappoint me, Dean. It's like you don't trust me or something. And that hurts me, deeply," Gabriel said, placing his hands over his heart. "If you don't trust me with that, will you at least accept a token of goodwill? Your car is outside, perfectly safe from the explosion. And if you're going to be stubborn and make us explain things the long way, we might want to clear out and make ourselves scarce. There's only so long I can hold off the actual authorities."

Balthazar turned to face the boys. "See you back at your motel." She smiled and winked, disappearing along with Gabriel.

"Damnit, what the hell was that about?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged in response. "I guess we'd better head back to the motel, there's no telling what those two are doing without us."

They walked out into the rubble strewn street to the Impala, which was completely untouched by the devastation, as Gabriel had promised. Dean ran a hand along the hood, having a hard time believing what he was seeing. They piled into the car and made the short drive across town in silence.


	2. The Truth Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out the Catholics did have it right...
> 
> A story of the Angels

Gabriel and Balthazar were sprawled out in the chairs, leaving Sam and Dean to sit side by side on a bed, facing them.

"So what the crap is going on?" Dean asked, settling in as comfortably as he could.

"You know, this really would be easier if we could just..." Balthazar trailed off, holding his hands up toward Sam and Dean.

"Not a chance. Start talking. Start with how you aren't dead."

Gabriel grinned. "So impatient. Remember whose choice it was to do this the long way. Besides, if we try to explain things out of order, you won't understand and we'll have to just start over again anyway."

"Everything you think you know about angels is fundamentally flawed," Balthazar began. "I do have to say, the Catholics are the closest to understanding our hierarchy, but even they're missing a few key pieces. So let's begin with a catechism lesson, shall we?" Sam rolled his eyes. "Look, if we don't get this out of the way first it'll be piecemeal. I'd rather not. So pay attention." She paused. "Right, starting with the basics. Nine choirs of angels. Starting at the top we've got seraphim, cherubim, thrones, dominions, virtues, powers, archangels, principalities, and the lowly common angel. Originally there were eight archangels, one to rule over each of the other choirs."

"So what's the difference between them all?" Sam asked.

"For our purposes nothing until I get to it," Balthazar replied. "In reality, it's the difference between apes and humans between the choirs."

"I thought there were only four archangels, though," said Dean.

"Please note I said _originally_. Some have died, some have fallen and become trapped, and some would rather identify with the choir that they rule rather than the one they were born to. Lucifer was originally slated to rule over the Principalities. They got a bit twisted under him. Now they're hostile to God and most of the rest of the Heavenly Host. These days Jesus keeps them in line, but he's not technically an archangel."

Gabriel continued. "Angels, being immortal creatures, can't actually really die, apparently. When we get killed, we actually get shipped out to the Principalities and offered a choice. Join our half brother and his followers or have what amounts to an armed guard follow you at all times. And if you make the smart choice, you eventually get all your powers back, too. But you'd honestly be surprised how few angels take him up on the offer of relative freedom."

"So wait, you're saying that all the angels we've seen killed weren't actually killed? Why the hell doesn't anybody else know about this?" Dean sounded angry.

Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed. "We're not regular angels any more. We get fundamentally changed into something else. Principalities don't even get the same type of telepathy that the rest of the angels have. It's all on an entirely different wavelength. We can't communicate with the rest of the angels. Some of us can occasionally hear bits of things, but it's rare and uncontrolled."

"That brings us to the planning phase of this little talk." Balthazar leaned forward. "Metatron didn't take us into account when he closed Heaven. Jesus is still up there, on the inside, and he can still talk to all of us. It's the perfect setup for taking down Metatron. He'll never see it coming. Even if he does find one of us, we only know our part in the plan."

"That's all well and good, but where do we come in?" Sam asked. "We can't communicate with Jesus or whatever like you can."

"Oh ye of perpetually underdeveloped faith," Gabriel sneered. "That's where we come in. We track your every move and come find you whenever we need you."

"But what about the protection Cas put on us, so no other angels could find us?" Sam asked.

"The cute markings on your ribs? Yeah, he forgot to mention that if you break a rib, it breaks the protection, didn't he? Also, Principalities don't count as angels, remember?" Gabriel leaned forward. "If it hadn't been for our baby brother legitimately coming back from the dead and then puling his stunts with leviathans and purgatory, you two probably would have been toast a long time ago. The average angel in any given choir is secretly terrified of his wrath, and with good reason. If we had all actually died instead of transmuting, the blood of thousands would be on his hands. He is the single most brutal leader any of the angels have ever known."

"Do you want to know the best part?" Balthazar asked, enjoying Dean's mild discomfort. "The best part is that he will never know how many of them forgive him. He'll live to the end of time with crushing guilt that he doesn't need to carry."

"Oh yeah?" Dean challenged. "What's to stop me from telling him?"

Gabriel and Balthazar both smiled darkly. "Try it. Tell him what, exactly?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He frowned an tried again, with the same result. "Alright, enough showing off," Sam said, sounding annoyed.

Gabriel held his hands up in mock surrender and sat back. "This isn't us. I wish I could selectively mute certain topics of conversation, but this particular edict comes from higher up."

"So where do we fit into this whole angelic civil war bit then?" Sam asked.

"To be honest," Balthazar started, "you don't. You're ancillary to he plan. Dean, on the other hand and that wonderful new marking on his arm, that's got the hallmark of a fine plan."

"That's all well and good to plan, but Crowley's got the blade to go with it and he's not going to let me have it until we've got Abaddon cornered and ready to kill." Dean stood up and headed for the door. When he was halfway there, he turned back. "Look, I'm all onboard with getting rid of Metatron for you, but until you've solved the immediate problem of Crowley and the last Knight of Hell, leave me the out of your damned meet and greets, or whatever this crap is. I'm out of here."

They all watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. A few seconds later a car door slammed and the Impala roared to life, tires squealing behind him as he drove away angrily.

"That went better than expected," Gabriel said, looking over at Balthazar. "Well done."

Balthazar smiled at Gabriel and then looked at Sam. "Apparently there is already another faction dealing with the demons. It's going to take some time, but I promise you, no matter how bad things seem, you and Dean will be as safe as the Principalities can keep you. As a whole we had less damage from the Fall, we had further to fall and more time to prepare. But we have to be careful not to reveal our strength, or even our existence if we can help it, to Metatron."

"We're pretty sure that all his time on Earth and then working so closely with Dad made him forget that Principalities are still technically angels too, even if we don't have our own nice shiny archangel to lead us. We don't want to tip him off. But we will be in touch." Gabriel snapped his fingers, leaving Sam alone in the motel room. He wasn't exactly sure what the entire thing meant in the long run, but he was sure he didn't like it one bit.


	3. Pripyat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel sets up a hidden base somewhere in a heavily irradiated location. What could possibly go wrong?

Gabriel and Balthazar were in the void. There was nothing around them save the echoes of other Principalities traveling through. "What now?" Balthazar asked. He knew that much of the plan involving the Winchesters was Gabriel filling a basic framework given to him.

Gabriel sighed. He knew Balthazar had been bluffing about any real work being done on the demon front. "We take on the forces of hell and try not to attract too much attention to ourselves." He paused, deep in thought, then spreading his awareness across all of creation. It was a light enough touch that no one being, unless they were expecting exactly such a thing, should notice, but it was a risky move. "I can't find the blade or a sufficiently strong demon to ask. And Hell is shrouded, as always."

"A strong demon wouldn't necessarily know, we need one loyal to Crowley. One who..." he trailed off. On one hand it would be good to find a strong demon that they could control silently. One they knew, one who would actually deal with angels. "Crowley."

Gabriel nodded. He had been thinking along the same lines. He was a known factor, one the angels could easily manipulate. A truce could be maintained. It wasn't likely what their father had in mind when He created the world, but it was the best they could hope to do without Him. "We have to find him before Abaddon does. The sooner the better." He had no qualms about sending Dean in to kill Abaddon as part of the bargain with Crowley, he only hoped he would be able to gently convince Dean that a Hell run by Crowley wasn't so bad in the long run. It was certainly better than a Hell in chaos.

"How do you suggest we do that?" Balthazar asked. "Calling him out with our power will attract undue attention from the others."

"We do what the humans would do. A mundane summoning ritual. Only bleed as much energy into it as is strictly necessary, ward the place against demons and normal angels beforehand, and don't actually give him a chance to pull anything." he closed his eyes again, scouring the Earth for the most likely place for them to be able to set up without any interference. "How does a trip to Pripyat sound?"

With a thought and a silent flutter of wings, they were there, deep within the bowels of an industrial building well into the dead zone. Balthazar looked mildly uncomfortable with the situation. "What's wrong," Gabriel asked. "Don't like the view?"

"I was directed specifically to this vessel by Jesus. She's important to the cause somehow, but she's dying. Being here isn't helping me heal her." She hunched her shoulders, wrapping invisible wings around herself.

Gabriel took pity on her. "You know the ingredients we need. Go get them, and anything else we might need to subdue him once we have him. I'll make this place ready. Meet back in two days, it'll be safe for your vessel by then." He fully intended to make a large swath of land perfectly safe in case he ever needed to bring anyone back to this place for any reason. Once Balthazar had left, he began the work of cleaning and securing the hideout, going slowly to avoid prying eyes of any kind.

Two days later Balthazar arrived with all the ingredients. She looked haggard with circles under her eyes and her hair hanging limply around her face. Gabriel was at her side in an instant, setting the bags on the floor and guiding her to a chair.

"What happened?" Gabriel asked, looking over her for any obvious signs of injury.

"Multiple organ failure. I spent too much energy getting the job done I forgot that my vessel is fundamentally broken." She sighed and leaned back into the chair. "I don't think I can maintain being the forward presence. Take care of her while I heal her?" Her eyes rolled back and she slumped in the chair, unconscious. Within a few seconds her eyes fluttered open again, and she looked around the room afraid.

"Easy, there," Gabriel said calmly. He made sure he was within her line of sight and crouched in front of the chair, being sure not to crowd her. "It's okay, you're safe here."

"Are you Gabriel?" She asked meekly. Her voice had changed back to the flat midwest accent.

"Yeah, I am," he said, smiling and nodding.

She smiled weakly back. "He said I could trust you. Said you'd take care of me." She looked around the room, bare except for the chair she was sitting in and a table against a wall. "Where did he bring me?"

"Well, around the world, probably a few times. But where we are isn't important. It's completely safe and protected, that's what you need to remember." Internally Gabriel was worried. They needed to summon Crowley as soon as possible, but he didn't want to do anything with Balthazar so vulnerable. There were no supplies on hand to deal with a human, especially not a sick one.

"I'm Laura. He likes to call me Betty. Says it's funny. I must not quite get heavenly humor." Her eyes closed again. "I'm tired. Is there a place I can lie down for a bit?"

Gabriel stood up. "Wait here just a second," he said. With a rush of air he was gone, scouring the surrounding areas for a passable bed and bedding. Food and water could wait until she was asleep safely and comfortably.

When he got back, she was already asleep in the chair. He lifted her gently and carried her to the bed, settling her in as well as he could. He warded the area again before going out and gathering enough necessary supplies to last for a few days.

Once everything was stored safely he stopped back into the makeshift bedroom. He could see what Balthazar was up against, this body was struggling to maintain itself. Gabriel put a hand over her forehead, sending his own energy to help heal this woman. If it was going to be more time before they could advance their plan, he may as well expend his own energy to help out and cut down the timeframe.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, pouring energy slowly into the body before him. It could have been hours or days, but eventually she started stirring. Gabriel stepped out to take stock of himself and to give Laura some privacy as she woke up. He was tired, his energy lower than he had planned, but without having to do any major work, he figured he'd recuperate quickly enough.

While he now understood what Balthazar was dealing with, the delay frustrated him. He had felt the soul of this girl, it was one of the purest he had ever seen in a human, and that was saying a lot. To see her body failing with no apparent cause was bad enough, but to know that the only thing that could save her was their grace, limited as it was, was even more terrible. She was important, she was necessary for the larger plan, and it would be nearly impossible to keep on track to retake Heaven within the year if they had to take this much time on a regular basis to heal her.

By the time she came out of the room, he had pulled himself together. "Morning," he said brightly. "How'd you sleep?" He could tell by the body language that it was still Laura, Balthazar was still working in the background to heal her.

"Is 'like an angel' too trite?" She tok a deep breath. "I honesty feel much better than I have in years. Thank you."

"Come this way. The kitchen isn't much, but I can probably manage something for breakfast if you'd like." Gabriel led her down a short corridor to a disused boiler room that had been converted into a kitchenette. There was a mini-fridge against one wall, a water spigot emptying into an oversized bucket for a sink, and a camp stove and microwave on a rickety table. "What would you like?" he asked.

"I don't suppose scrambled eggs would be possible, would they?" Laura had a feeling that Gabriel hadn't been expecting her and hadn't planned on feeding her.

She was under absolutely no pretense about the fact that an angel was inside of her, and she knew that when she 'went away' that her body needed nearly no sustenance, that the angel inside of her kept her alive and well. But she hadn't been well to begin with. Balthazar coming to her had been an answer to her years of faithful prayer. It hadn't been what she had expected an angel to be like, but it had yet to be a disappointing experience.

"Your wish is my command," Gabriel said, bowing dramatically. He began pulling supplies from behind pipes and preparing the eggs. If she didn't realize that the fridge was cosmically connected to whatever other refrigerator had what he needed that wouldn't go missing, well, he wasn't about to tell her. He was willing to let her believe in the goodness and purity of angels and pretend that the bloodthirsty vengeful ones didn't exist.

"Why are you doing this?" Laura was watching Gabriel closely. "I mean taking care of me like this. I obviously don't expect you to explain the entire plan to retake Heaven complete with battle strategy."

"You remind me of someone. A girl I knew. Plus you're carrying around my baby brother. That's gotta count for something. Do you want anything in your eggs? Cheese? Peppers? Salsa?"

Laura shook her head. "Plain, thanks. And that doesn't explain anything. I don't understand completely what's going on, but from what I've gathered, there's a massive angelic war right now. You're all related, brothers and sisters, and you're all jumping onboard with killing each other. Why is this brother special? Why am I special?"

Gabriel sighed. He couldn't possibly explain the delicacies of soul purity, or the intricacies of angelic social order, not to someone so curious. "Laura, you are special. I'm not party to the big picture, I don't know where you fit in, but you're important to someone higher than me. And Balthazar? He's one of a handful of angels that have learned to ignore orders, go off the grid. In the several millennia since we were created, so few of us have embraced free will. I can't explain why, but we're the only two on our side, and we're the side with the best chance of ending the bloodshed quickly." He heaped the coked eggs onto a plate and put it in front of her. "Plus he's my brother. I do love him. I love all of them, even if they're too stubborn too see that what I'm doing is for their own good."

Laura ate slowly. She had heard all the arguments before, on the news in political reports from around the world. Distasteful acts by the leaders to their people, for their own good. This time, though, she believed him. This wasn't standard human politics, this was an angel. An archangel, at that, the angel Gabriel. "I can't say I understand because I don't understand, but I believe you. And I trust you. And the eggs are delicious, thank you." She bowed her head, and when she raised it again, Balthazar was in control. She looked down at the plate in front of her, then back up to Gabriel. "Eggs?"

"You told me to take care of her, and she asked for eggs for breakfast. What was I supposed to do, let her starve?" He rolled his eyes and cleaned the room with a wave of his hand. "You know me better than that." They headed back to the main room with the lone chair and table. A demon circle was painted in the center of the room, around the chair. "How soon will you be ready to do this?"

Balthazar sat on the table, dangling her legs. "It may be tomorrow. I've done what I can to stabilize her, and thanks for all the help, but you saw what I'm up against here. I still haven't figured out why everything's shutting down, so all I'm doing is just shoring up against eventual further failures. I'm impressed with what you've done with the place, though. That's a lot of work to do in two days without attracting attention."

"It helps that we're so far into the irradiated zone that even if anyone wanted to show up, they'd have to fly in to avoid the Ukrainian authorities. And with political tension how it is, they're not likely in the mood to let people come play in their radiated playground. Even the people who live in the city don't come this far in." He smirked. "Besides which, getting a lot done without attracting attention is kind of what I do. I've got more practice than anyone else in this family."

Balthazar shrugged. She couldn't argue with that. "So what do we do for the day?"

"Wait, mostly. Make sure everything's set up. Rest. I'll be ready whenever you are." Gabriel went to stand propped up in the corner and fell into a trance. He was keeping a wide eye over the wards and protection he had set up, and monitoring the general buzz of what he could still hear over the standard angelic telepathy. It was weak, but he could still pick up on major patterns. So far there was just the low level whisper that everything had been reduced to after he had been killed and reformed. Everything was proceeding as planned so far.


	4. The Windup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summoning a demon and healing a body. Two very different goals for two very different angels.

There was one thing Jesus had going for him, Gabriel thought. He was a planner, a tactician. It was evident in how he planned things, placing people here or there for various events to happen. Nothing was accidental with him. With God, it was impossible to tell how much was planned and how much was improvised. Gabriel had his suspicions that God was less of a planner than everyone else thought him to be, but there was no way to even ask. And boy, would that be a question to rock the foundations of creation. Gabriel smiled at the thought of it. 'Hey Dad,' he'd say, casually. 'Do you even know what you're doing?'

"What's so funny?" Balthazar asked.

"Just a question I'd love to ask Dad, if I ever got the chance."

"What's that?"

Gabriel opened his eyes. "I want to know if he knows what the crap he was doing, putting this all together, or if he ran away because it got out of hand."

"You wouldn't," Balthazar challenged.

"Bitch, please. You wouldn't. I would. What's he going to do, kick me out of heaven? Bit late for that now, isn't it? Besides which, we're Principalities now. We're _supposed_ to be hostile to him, remember?" He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back. "Don't know if I'll ever get the chance, though. If this all goes south, Metatron is going to try to lock us far away for a very long time."

She couldn't argue, so Balthazar pulled her feet up atop the table and wrapped her arms around her knees. She sat in silence, occasionally reaching out and testing the wards which Gabriel had put into place. Occasionally she focused her energy inwards when she felt an organ start to act up again, keeping it all in check early to save having to do massive repairs later. If she had the time and unlimited energy, she would have frozen time and gone through each cell in the body, pinpointing which ones were causing problems. If that didn't work, she'd go through the DNA itself, fixing all the broken strands and making everything whole. Time and energy, though, were both at a premium at the moment, she'd have to make do with shoring up everything while she could and hoping for the best.

They stayed like that, unmoving, for hours. When she felt she was ready, Balthazar took a deep breath and let it out. She opened her eyes and hopped down from the table. Gabriel was already heading into the other room to gather all the ingredients they'd need for the summoning spell.

"Which one of us is actually doing this?" Balthazar asked.

"You. I'll be ready to catch him and shove him into the circle." He began lighting the candles and drawing the proper sigil on the table. "Pretty sure I've still got more juice than you, and hopefully he won't be expecting it." He looked over the bowl, the candles, and the sigil. "Whenever you're ready," he said, waving a hand and stepping back.

Balthazar took a knife from the table, running the blade into her hand and letting the blood drip into the bowl. She ignited it with her mind as she said the incantation and waited for Crowley to appear.

There was a shift in the air, subtle but noticeable. Immediately Gabriel was shoving a body into the chair, wrestling it into place. Crowley yelled in surprise but quieted down quickly when he saw where he was. He straightened his jacket and glared at the two angels in front of him. "You could have just invited me to your secret bunker, you know. I would have come." There were bruises on his face and bags under his eyes. "It's not like you could do any worse than I've been through already."

Gabriel walked in circles around him, sizing him up. "We're not here to torture you," he said, stopping in front of Crowley. "Unless, of course, you're into that. Then we can work out a deal later. For now, though, we've got another offer for you."

Balthazar sauntered forward, smiling as she healed the cut in her hand. "And trust us, it's an offer you won't want to turn down too easily."

"My dear, I highly doubt you have anything to offer me that hasn't been offered by hordes of your kind before," Crowley said with a smile. "Let me guess, you'll leave me alone if I give you something. The answer's no, I'm afraid my resources are my own at the moment."

"Trust me," Gabriel said, leaning in. "You've never dealt with our kind before. We're not like the rest of the Heavenly host. We're the dark side, the ones nobody has ever heard of, and we've got more power than any other brothers or sisters." He stepped back, but kept looking intently. "You want to be the undisputed King of Hell, right?"

"I AM the King of Hell," he growled in response. "That upstart bitch went missing for decades, there's no way I'm going to bow down to her."

"Oh boo hoo," Gabriel cut in. "Guy who runs our place, he's been gone for centuries. Now shut up and listen. You want to be the undisputed King. We want you on the throne. We will offer our support to get rid of Abaddon. In return, you give us the First Blade and we use it for our purposes. You never see it again. You live your life, enjoy your Kingdom, and we meet on a semi-regular basis to keep the peace between Heaven and Hell."

Crowley glared angrily at him. "So you want me to live under the control of angels in order to get my throne back? Let me think about that for a moment." He paused, deep in pretend thought. "No."

Balthazar leaned in close. "You misunderstand us. We will defeat Abaddon and place someone on the throne who isn't unduly hostile to us. Whether or not you live to see that is up to you. We control the Mark of Cain. You either win this with our support or you're never get seen again." She patted Crowley none too gently on his bruised cheek. "We'll give you some time to think it over." She stood up and sauntered out of the room. Gabriel smirked and cocked an eyebrow, then followed Balthazar out of the room.

"Hey!" Crowley yelled after them. "You can't leave me here! I've got battles to fight, a realm to take over. There's a war I need to be out there fighting!"

In the next room over, the angels took a moment to listen to Crowley raging. "How long, do you think?" Balthazar asked.

"We'll have him inside three days. Just leave him alone, focus on figuring out what's wrong with your vessel. Now that we've got him safe, we've got all the time in the world."

It quickly became a game for Balthazar, trying to guess which organ would fail next and how. He had taken his awareness down to a microscopic level and was going from cell to cell, repairing damage and rewriting cell function to optimize it. Usually this was an automatic function of having an angel inside a body, but this body was failing faster than the standard optimization could compensate for.

It was the heart next. The valves were fluttering open and shut out of sync with the rest of the muscle around it. He found what was causing it, a cell that sensed the timing was misfiring electrical signals. He fixed the sensors and the fixing cells and moved on to find the next problem.

He was still vaguely aware of Gabriel funneling energy into him. The archangel had a much greater well from which to draw, and it was much easier for him to share rather than have to wait longer for Balthazar to be ready. Gabriel was also examining the vessel's DNA, seeing if he could find a cause for all the problems that kept happening.

On to the brain, where he had to sort out neurons sensing out the wrong signals to the rest of the body. It took him more time than he wanted to sort that out. While he was working on it, connective tissue all around the body was slowly deteriorating. Important bits fixed first, the spine hips and knees, in that order. Build up cartilage, strengthen bone, reinforce tendons and ligaments. Then on to secondary bits, the shoulders, elbows, ankles and wrists. Build up, reinforce, strengthen. Ulcers...repaired, stomach acid reduced. Splenic rupture...sealed, organ repaired from chronic damage.

On and on it went, picking out what was the most immediate danger and taking care of it, and on down the line. Something tugged at him, pulling him back to the world outside his vessel's body. He finished the task at hand then filled the body fully, taking over. Gabriel was looking at him carefully. "What's wrong?" Balthazar asked, immediately on guard.

Gabriel jerked his head to the room where Crowley was being held. "He's been screaming for you. Just go in and check the candles or something, don't even look at him. Less than a minute, then back in here."

Balthazar nodded and sauntered slowly into the other room. She made sure to keep her back to Crowley at all times so there was no accidental eye contact. She waited for the minute shift in the room that signaled Crowley's change in demeanor. Without looking back, she left the room again, feeling the eyes that followed her all the way.

Gabriel was grinning as the door closed. "We're close, I think. He should start cracking soon." They could hear vitriol being shouted from Crowley in the other room, but it was muted by the thick door. "How's the work on the body going? You look a lot better."

"Slow going. Any luck on the genome yet?"

"Nothing yet. Only about halfway through, though. Still have to make sure the wards hold and nobody finds us. I've also got an ear to the ground listening for rumblings. There's a rumor that our guest is dead. Abaddon is making sweeping moves, consolidating her power base and stretching herself thin. Metatron has taken an interest in her, apparently, and is sending hordes off to destroy her lieutenants." He paused and cocked his head to the side, as though listening to a quiet conversation, then looked impressed. "They seem to be doing pretty well, too. Abaddon is getting pretty pissed at the angels."

"How on earth do you possibly know that?"

Gabriel shrugged casually. "Cell phone conversations. Did you know that the only people Dean and Sam ever talk to are Castiel and other hunters? So if you just keep following the chains and listening in on other hunters' phone calls, you can get a lot of useful information.

Balthazar nodded, but she was still just as confused. She didn't know it was possible to listen in on cell phone calls, even as an angel. Especially as an angel. Technology still had the tendency to confuse most of them, and trying to access wireless data without some sort of technological receiver was something she was willing to write off as impossible outside of Gabriel. The things on that list had never ceased to amaze her, and she as constantly finding new things that she had to add. "So when do we go back in?" She asked, trying to change the subject.

"We don't. You do. And soon."

"Alone? I thought this was kind of your thing here." Balthazar wasn't sure that he was up to doing the entire interaction with Crowley, especially since it seemed like all of the relevant facts were in Gabriel's head, not hers.

"You'll be fine. I'll be listening in and coaching you. But trust me on this one. He can see straight through me, I've had too many years in this vessel and my tells are obvious. You, on the other hand, haven't had the chance to develop any yet." He put a finger to Balthazar's forehead, giving her all of the relevant information. "There, now you know what I do about all of this. Half an hour to form an attack plan, then you go in."


	5. Dealmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deal is made. Will Crowley keep up his end of the bargain? Will Gabriel?

Crowley was out of the chair and pacing around the circle, screaming and throwing his hands in the air. Balthazar knew he couldn't escape the demon trap, but she also wasn't about to get too close. She glared at him from the doorway until he saw her there. He kept screaming. She didn't even listen to the words, she just stood there waiting for him to sit back down and be quiet. It took about ten minutes of solid ranting about the distasteful treatment and lack of amenities before Crowley finally realized that the angel wasn't going to respond. He stopped yelling and glared right back at Balthazar.

"Are you quite finished?" Balthazar asked, stepping fully into the room.

"Believe me, I've barely even started," Crowley responded with a sneer.

"I can leave you to it and come back later, but it may be too late then." Balthazar shrugged and started to turn around.

"Too late for what?"

"For you." She turned back and closed half the distance to the circle. "Everyone already thinks you're dead. Abaddon isn't going to bother telling them that she didn't do it. She's consolidating her power. Your followers are few and far between, and they're being slaughtered. If we wait too much longer, Abaddon will be undisputed ruler in Hell and she'll be untouchable. You'll be redundant at that time, and there will be no reason for us to keep you around." She paused, tilting her head. "We haven't decided yet if we should kill you outright at that point, or drop you off back on Earth and leave you to your own devices, meager as they would be."

Crowley paused to digest all the information. He calmed down and sat in the chair. "So, what do you need me for? If Abaddon's already a majority shareholder in Hell, it's going to be difficult to root out all of her supporters. My people are being slaughtered, in your own words. I won't have a chance either way." He stopped talking and smiled. "If this is strictly a negotiation for the location of the First Blade, you'd better have something I really want."

_Do I tell him about the angels fighting Abaddon first?_ Balthazar thought to Gabriel. There was no response. Gabriel was leaving him on his own after all. "While Abaddon is busy rooting out all of your loyalists, Metatron's forces are doing a number on her. Her position is progressing, but very slowly. The angels are doing a lot of damage to her. She won't move against them until she has all of the forces of Hell under her control. If you come back to your weaker position, she'll be fighting an actual war on two fronts. As it is she's doing cleanup before the war really begins."

With a shake of his head, Crowley leaned back in the chair, giving the impression that he was indulging the angel to an audience before him. "You still haven't told me what you want in all of this. I know you want the blade, but I don't understand why. I need to be assured of my safety before I reveal its location."

"We assured you before, once you are secure on the throne of Hell, we will convince Dean that you are not a worthwhile target. He will not come after you, and the First Blade will be secured safely away from him should he ignore us."

"Oh yes, because Dean is the only threat I'm worried about," Crowley quipped. "Listen here, missy, there are plenty of nasties out there-"

"I am an angel of the Lord!" Balthazar said, stretching her wings behind her and standing up straight. "I knew the cosmos before the Earth had form. I watched the first beasts crawling on the ground and have seen the rise and fall of everything in creation. Do not DARE presume to lecture me on the dangers extant in your position, nor condescend to me. You WILL do as you are told, or you WILL be destroyed and another will be found to take your place. Make your choice!"

Crowley had the decency to flinch at the force that was being displayed before him. He had apparently struck a nerve with this angel, whoever it was. He stood up and strode to the edge of the demon circle confining him. "Look, I don't know you from the next do-gooder out there, but nobody tells me what to do or how to do it." He let his inherent power bleed through the facade of the body he was in. "So here's the deal I'm offering, and it's the best you're going to get. You tell me why you need the First Blade, tell me why you don't count yourself with the rest of the angels, and we write up a contract outlining the details of our mutual involvement."

Internally, Balthazar was pleased. Crowley had reacted just as Gabriel said he would. "There exist several factions of angels. I do not count myself among those who follow Metatron. The First Blade is going to be used to kill the angel who read the spell to shut heaven, and it will be reopened for us all. As for the contract," she snapped her fingers and a carefully worded document appeared on a table across the room Balthazar strode over and picked it up, tossing it casually to Crowley. "You have an hour. Either it will be signed or you will be abandoned and we will make alternate plans. With or without the First Blade, we will kill Metatron and open heaven again." She walked into the circle and closed the distance to Crowley, backing him against the other end of the circle. "Know this, demon. We have the strength and numbers to take Metatron openly. We have decided against it for reasons that are our own. Should you decide to help us and then betray us, there will be no safe space for you. Nowhere, from the depths of hell to the highest spires of heaven. We are Legion, and we will find and destroy you should you think to go back on your word." She turned sharply and strode from the room, radiating anger.

When the door had closed she slumped against it, sighing heavily. "He should be on our side, with minor corrections to wording in the contract. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go scour every fiber of my being. Dealing with demons is just distasteful."

Gabriel clapped her on the shoulder. "You did great in there. Gave away just enough information to keep him guessing, but not enough to give away the whole game. Take an hour, keep shoring your body up. I'll mind the wards, that display of yours caught me off guard."

"Sorry," Balthazar muttered, already starting to focus inwards.

"Don't be. It was a brilliant bit of improvising. And nobody's come snooping round yet. We may yet come out of this part unscathed."

After an hour had passed without any undue outside attention, Gabriel looked over at Balthazar. She was in the same trance she had been in before. He smiled and headed in to deal with Crowley on his own.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said brightly as he strode casually into the room. "You've had time to look over the contract? It's fairly standard, but we haven't had too much time to draft one from scratch." He grinned smugly. "So whaddya say? Do we have an agreement?"

Crowley held up the stack of papers. "There's a few changes and amendments I'd like to propose," he began, taking a deep breath.

"You can suggest any changes, but none that would change the spirit or purpose of the contract. Also, you're limited to ten words."

"Ten words?" Crowley nearly yelled. "That's bloody preposterous!"

"That's the deal. Take it or leave it." Gabriel stared darkly at Crowley, waiting for his response.

There was a long pause. "Fine," Crowley practically snarled, "I'll take it."

Gabriel smiled smugly. "I knew you'd see it our way." He snapped and a table appeared inside the demon circle. On the table was an old-fashioned crystal inkwell and quill. The well was empty, and the quill rattled as the table settled into existence. "Now for the changes and signing ceremony. Let's go over those changes you want to make first."

Crowley slapped the papers down, opening to the second page. He pointed at a clause. "This needs to say my name specifically, not 'the ruler of Hell'." Gabriel smiled, nodded, and the words on the page changed. Crowley pointed to another section on the next page. "For eternity instead of in perpetuity." Another nod, and it was changed. "Add an all here," he said.

Gabriel shook his head. "Sorry, no can do."

"You said ten words!" Crowley said.

"I also said none that would substantially change the contract. We will not protect you from all dangers and attacks. If your people want to have another bloody coup with a long war, unless it affects the humans on Earth disproportionately, we will not interfere. We will protect you from all creatures and humans listed in subsection 12. Four words to go."

"Fine. Add 'and the first blade' to subsection 12. Bloody angels." Crowley was obviously none too pleased with the contract laid out before him, but this was the only way for him to regain any semblance of power.

Gabriel smiled and nodded, and the words were added to the contract. He pulled a small knife from nowhere and cut across his palm, letting the blood drip into the empty inkwell. He handed the blade, handle first to Crowley. "Your turn."

"This is ridiculous," Crowley grumbled, but he made a cut on his on hand and bled into the inkwell. Gabriel was the first to take the quill and sign his name with a flourish at the end of the last page. Crowley followed suit, and the contract shimmered with a magical seal.

Gabriel snapped his fingers again and the room was emptied except for the demon circle still on the floor. "Don't forget the section on punishments for not abiding by the contract," Gabriel warned. "The first step is getting the blade to us so we can take out Abaddon quickly." He handed the demon a cell phone. "That has one number programmed into it. Call that number once you have the blade. The angel on the other end will arrange for you to meet for a handoff." He stepped back outside the circle and waved. With a thought, it was all gone, circle and Crowley. It had all been sent to the middle of a river in China that would quickly wash away parts of the trap and leave Crowley free to go, and all without revealing the location of his new safe house.


	6. Castiel Gets the Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a whiny baby, which should surprise absolutely nobody.

Dean was anxiously pacing the motel room. He and Sam were trying to explain their encounter with Gabriel and Balthazar, with limited success. "He was right there, Cas! Right where you're sitting."

Castiel shook his head. "Dean that is impossible. I killed Balthazar myself. There is no way that he survived."

"Cas, he was there. He had a new vessel, a female, but it was definitely him." Sam was sitting on the bed again. It had taken them two days of waiting to actually reach Cas, and they had been nervous to move on in case Cas could sense some residual energy.

"And you say that Gabriel was with him?"

"Yeah, same vessel and all. How the hell can he do that? He was killed. Destroyed. We saw it, Cas. He died for us. Literally." Dean stopped pacing and stared.

"That I could believe. He has passed for dead before. I don't know if he has ever been killed by another angel, or an archangel, but I could see that his years of practice could let him survive." He squinted and tilted his head staring straight at Dean. "Did they tell you anything important?"

Dean's face hardened. He wanted to tell Cas about all the angels forgiving him for their deaths, but he knew the words wouldn't come.

"Dean, what is wrong?" Castiel asked, his face softening in response to Dean's apparent anger.

"They're in some other group of angels now," Sam supplied. He knew what Dean wanted to say, what he wanted to be able to say himself, but the rest of the information that could be told was important enough that it had to be shared. "Principalities, I think."

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise. "Principalities," he muttered quietly. "No. That's not possible." His head shook a tiny amount.

Sam opened his mouth and tried to tell him that all angels that died ended up there, but the words wouldn't come. He sighed in frustration. "Look, maybe they just got a second chance. Haven't you been killed? You're still here, right?" It wasn't the truth exactly, but it would have to do.

"If they are Principalities now, and they have the amount of power that you said they seemed to have, everything is in danger." Castiel sat perfectly still, but there was a palpable nervous energy in the room, an anxious buzz thrumming along just below the conscious awareness. "Dean, Sam, next time they are in contact with you, you must let me know immediately. Principalities are just as dangerous to you as demons. And if they have enough power to draw you in and stay hidden from the rest of us..." he trailed off. "You are in great danger."

"Yeah, what's new?" Dean snapped back. "Look, it's Gabriel and Balthazar. If they had wanted to kill us, they could have done it several times over. They're asking for our help in taking down Metatron and open heaven back up for all of you. Is it really that bad?"

"There is no telling what the Principalities are truly planning. They are the only angels able to actively hate, and their hate has twisted them. Even if it still is Balthazar and Gabriel, and I have my doubts about that, there is no telling how twisted and changed they have become." Castiel was intensely worried.

"Look," Sam said, "We'll be careful, okay? And we'll call you next time they reach out to us, if we can. Until then, we wanted to make sure you knew what was going on and to give you a chance to see if you could feel anything here that would give you an idea of what they were. But there was one more thing that Gabriel said that you might want to take a look at."

"And what would that be?" Castiel asked, doubtful that it would be of interest to him.

"Well, in the years since you've given us those signs on our ribs, we've probably broken them a few times. He said they were broken and flawed, and you might want to take a look at them."

Dean sighed and turned away from them. He didn't want to believe Gabriel about that, and had argued with Sam about even mentioning it. He didn't see the terrified look that passed quickly over Castiel's face.

Castiel was on his feet in an instant, standing beside Sam with his hands splayed over his chest. Sam sat perfectly still, letting Cas repair the ribs back to an unblemished state and correct minor details in the markings. It wasn't nearly as painful as the first time it had been done, and he came away from it feeling better than he had in months. It was refreshing in a way, and he didn't know why Dean was so opposed to the idea. He could tell when Cas backed away from him and went over to Dean, but their conversation was quiet, fevered whisperings between them.

"Dean, please let me do this for you," Cas whispered urgently. "You need this protection."

"I haven't had it for months, apparently, and you never noticed. I'll be fine." He took a step back away from Castiel. The Mark of Cain itched on his arm, just under his skin. He had a good guess as to why Gabriel and Balthazar had come to them, and he wasn't going to risk Castiel's protection throwing that off.

"Dean," Cas began.

"I said back off," Dean said forcefully, glaring at Cas.

"You're being exceptionally stubborn," Cas said, then disappeared.

"Yeah, well, you're one to talk," Dean muttered to the air.

Sam opened his eyes. "So he's gone then?"

"Yeah, we should hit the road too. We've sat still for too long. Let's go." He grabbed his bag off of the bed and headed for the door.


	7. In Swarm the Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demons aren't very good at following directions. The end result is what matters. Crowley always gets what he wants in the end.

Crowley was anxious. He would never admit to it, but somehow Abaddon had put demons around where he had hidden the First Blade. He figured it was one of several patrols around several likely hiding places and she was just covering her own hide. If she had known for certain where it was and had been able to access it, the war would have been over, and Dean and Sam would have been slaves of Hell by now, or worse. But the only way to stop that happening until he was ready for it was to get past this patrol and retrieve the blade.

He'd been free for only a few hours, and had found himself, complete with broken demon circle, in China. At least it had been light out, but it was still cold and he was still pissed off about that. But a contract was a contract, and there was no wiggle room written in on this one. He was going to have to do whatever these bloody angels wanted from him until he was in a position where he could renegotiate the terms. That was probably going to have to wait at least until Heaven was opened again and the rest of the angels weren't stuck on Earth.

For now, though, he was waiting for a distraction. He had called some of his loyalists to his side, and there were going to be coordinated attacks on Abaddon's patrols across the planet tonight. That way she would never know which was the true hiding place, if she even figured out what it was all about. He gave no definite proof that he was back, and even if one of his followers did start shouting from the rooftops that he was still alive, they'd been doing that from the beginning. Nobody would believe any demon that did it, and Crowley would see to it personally that any demon that stupid wouldn't have much of a life any more.

Right on schedule, three demons snuck into the graveyard. They weren't his best, but they weren't his worst. Somehow they managed to come up on Abaddon's followers and kill them from behind. He waited in the darkness for them to leave, but they stayed around. This wasn't part of the plan, they were supposed to all sneak in, kill, and then get out of the area. Crowley didn't want anyone knowing which of his various trinkets were stored in each of his hiding places. It had seemed like somehow Abaddon knew where his hiding places were, but not what sort of treasure troves she was sitting on, else she would have tried harder to get into them.

Crowley smirked. Nobody was getting into most of those boxes in the holes, he had laid the spell work himself, separate of his demon abilities. It was blood magic, the strongest he could work. Unless they had a clone of him sitting around somewhere, they wouldn't be able to get into the vaults, and he would be alerted whenever they tried. Each location had six layers of protection to get through in order to reach the goods inside. And so far as he was able to tell from his quick check, nothing on any of them had been disturbed.

"What are you idiots doing?" he muttered to himself. "Get out of here. Follow the bloody plan!" He could see the two of them conferring with each other, and then going right after where the blade was buried. "You'll never get into it. Step away and leave it alone." He could feel familiar twinges as several of the hidden items that had been under guard were all removed at once. He was seized with sudden pain and crumpled to the ground silently. He steeled himself, fighting against the pain, and fled back to his base of operations. He would be safe there, even if the hordes of hell assaulted his magically locked boxes, though he would be considerably closer to miserable than he was before.

One group at a time, his strike teams came back, each carrying the box that had been hidden at the location they'd been to. He glared at them as they came in, but didn't say a word until the last group came back. They had all assembled, laying the various boxes in front of him, and were now standing in a semicircle around his desk.

"What gave you the bright idea to touch any of these?" he screamed at them. "You were supposed to take out the guards and leave!"

One of the demons stepped forward, head bowed. Crowley recognized her as one of the most senior among them. "I apologize, my Lord. I thought it would be a good idea to have these brought back to safety. Once Abaddon knew that her guards had been killed, she would have sent more out to retrieve whatever it was they were guarding. It seemed best to bring them all in now rather than let her get most of them while you got the one you were after at the time."

Crowley sat silently for a full minute, letting the anxiety grow in the room. He thought it over, and she did have a point. It was better to suffer lightly now than to let Abaddon get a hold of all of his goodies and suffer a great deal later when she tried forcing the boxes open. "You are absolutely certain this facility is secure?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord. We've held it with few casualties against the worst of assaults." She looked up, pride blazing in her eyes. "With you to lead us, we will hold it against anything."

Internally Crowley was at once pleased at her pride and displeased at her initiative. It didn't do any good to have someone who could think for themselves at the top, they tended to start thinking that they were better than the guy just above them, and the guy at the top tended to dislike that entire mentality. "Yes, yes, fine. Go defend then." With a wave he dismissed them all, waiting until they had all left and the room was secure before touching any of the boxes.

The First Blade had been put into an average container. It wasn't the most ornate, nor was it the most plain, nor the oldest, nor the newest. It was just a box with some decoration along the edges. There was a keyhole on the front, but no key in the world would fit into it and unlock it. He bit the tip of a finger, drawing blood, then let three drops of blood fall into the lock. It whirred inside, and he stuck his finger back into his mouth until it stopped. He removed his finger and muttered several incantations. The process was repeated several times, until after half an hour of bleeding and incantations, the box opened to reveal the First Blade. He gave a sigh of relief and picked up his phone to dial the number that had been given to him by the angels.

"I have it," he said when it stopped ringing.

"Meet at these coordinates in an hour," came an unfamiliar voice from the other end, followed by a string of numbers.

"Isn't there anywhere a bit warmer we could possibly rendezvous?"

"Meet at those coordinates in an hour," repeated the voice, and the call disconnected.

"Yes, well, you're bloody welcome too," Crowley snapped before stuffing his phone in his jacket pocket. He had an hour to kill, why not spend it putting all of these little boxes into a big box and doing another however many layers he could get done of spell work before he had to go? It seemed like the best thing to do, now that everything was all in one place for Abaddon to take over and plunder. He made sure to add some explosive traps if things were done wrong.


	8. Principalities and the Chamber of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made for the first skirmish. Not everyone agrees on strategy.

They were hours away from any city when the Impala died. Dean swore loudly as he coasted to the side of the road. Once it had rolled to a stop, he tried to restart it, but it wouldn't even turn over. The lights had all died as well, so he couldn't even turn the flashers on to warn oncoming cars.

Dean and Sam both got out from the car, Sam with the flashlight to hold while Dean looked over the engine. From what he could tell by looking, there was nothing wrong.

"You won't find anything in there, boys," came a voice from behind them.

"I swear to god, Gabriel, I will kill you if you damaged my car," said Dean without turning around.

Gabriel snorted with amusement. "You swear to the most unreliable person in creation to kill an immortal being. Let me know how that one works out for you." He sauntered forward and leaned over the open engine next to Dean. "Besides which, do you really think I'd permanently damage your car and not make it better for you? Did last time teach you nothing? It's fine, I just needed your attention."

Dean slammed the hood shut, not caring if Gabriel's head or fingers got caught inside. "You have it. Now what?"

"My my my, aren't we touchy today." Gabriel looked over at Sam. "You're looking better, though. Much more hidden. Well done."

"Look, I'm not in the mood to put up with your crap right now. Tell us what the hell you want or leave us the hell alone," Dean snapped.

"Crowley has retrieved the First Blade for us," Gabriel said, immediately serious. "We're having a battle planning session and figured you might want to be in on it, considering you'll be one of the key players. You and your brother and your car will be kept safe where nobody else can reach you until it's time for the fight." His voice softened. "Dean, we're doing everything we can to get through this as fast as possible. All we want is for everything to go back to how it was before. I know Cas warned you that I'm more dangerous now than I was before, but that's a load of crap. You know it is." He stepped back to give Dean some space, letting him think.

"So what happens once Abaddon is dead?" Sam asked.

"That's up to you. We can keep you safe, or let you loose. As soon as we get word from above that the time is right, we'll call you back up and let Dean go to town on Metatron."

"But didn't you say angels can't actually die?"

Gabriel sighed. "It was an oversimplification of a sort. We can die. We do die. But regular good souls that die go to heaven anyway. We're from there, so when we die, we just change a bit and come back almost immediately. Of course, our essence is thrown out into the void and scattered a bit, so by the time we remake ourselves into something that resembles cognizance, Jesus is right there with his brute squad to offer us our choice. It usually only takes a day or so to re-coalesce." He smiled. "I doubt Meta-douche is going to get the offer that the rest of us get. He's screwed up enough already, he doesn't get a second chance."

Dean sighed and turned to face Gabriel and Sam. "I don't have much of a choice in this, do I?"

"Well you did get warned, I'm sure. There's a price that comes with that brand on your skin, and it's not a fun one to pay." Gabriel had seen the encounter, he watched Dean ignore the warnings and jump in with both feet. Gabriel felt for him, trying to be the big brother who took care of all of the dirty work when nobody else wanted to, willing to do literally whatever it took to protect his younger brother. It was a feeling Gabriel was all too familiar with, but he knew Dean wouldn't appreciate the comparison at all.

"Alright, let's go."

Instantly they were in a huge warehouse. There was a weak attempt at heating it, but for the most part it was cold inside. "Come this way," Gabriel said, walking towards the offices. "Your car is safe here."

When they walked into the office, there was a large table surrounded by people. They recognized Balthazar and Crowley, the latter of whom seemed to have guards posted around his chair, though he didn't appear to be bound in any way. He locked eyes with Sam and Dean and gave no snarky remark, no jubilant greeting, just a blank stare.

"We're all assembled," Gabriel began, "so let's begin."

"Whoa, wait, aren't there supposed to be introductions or something?" Dean asked.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. "Dean, Sam, these are the people who are likely going to die to give you the chance to kill Abaddon. They all know who you are and are willing to take this risk for you. So if there's nothing else?" He paused for a moment. "Alright, let's begin."

A tall, willowy angel stood up. "We stand ready to attack. There are enough freshly turned to fool many of Metatron's forces, so long as they do not look too closely." Finished, she sat again.

"Most of Abaddon's forces are deployed here," said a dark man, motioning towards the globe that had just appeared. A red dot appeared over the mountains of central Idaho. "Metatron's forces have been attacking from the South. We stand ready to put an invisible barrier to the North."

"Well I can tell you now that you'll be shooting yourself in the foot with that move," Crowley said. "That's my base she's attacking, and just North of her position is the entrance." He made a sweeping motion with one hand and the map was replaced with a much more detailed version. "Place your men here, in these rocky outcrops. Metatron's men don't go near that place for some reason or other. Then you can be the anvil when her squad," he said gesturing to the one who had spoken before, "convinces them to shift to come from the Southeast."

"Why don't they go there?" Balthazar asked.

Crowley twisted his face into a look of pure disgust, but answered. "It was a sacred site to the natives who lived there. They say it's tainted. I say it's a good hiding place if you can stomach a bit of weird vibes. It's perfectly safe, just discomforting." He shook his head and let it fall forward, his chin resting on his chest.

"Good. Crowley, you'll go in first, empty the base. Send everyone out, all the demons fighting back. My group will follow within five minutes. You have to get Abaddon out there in person quickly for this to work." Gabriel paused, listening to an unheard voice. "Your demons will be marked when they come out. We will attempt to spare them if they attack one of our members. If they attack one of the other choirs, we cannot be held responsible."

The dark angel looked at Crowley. "Do you have a plan to get Abaddon to come personally?"

"Trust me, I've got a plan. One she won't be able to resist. I'll need you to come along with me for the ride," he said, pointing to Balthazar. "And the brute squad. We'll go through the details later."

Balthazar didn't seem to like this plan too much. She looked at Gabriel and the two of them seemed to have a conversation that only they were party to. "Fine," she said at length. "Gabriel and I sit in on the planning session for that one so he knows what he's walking into when he arrives. Nobody else."

"Fine," Crowley said.

"Maybe I'm missing something here," Dean said, ignoring the pointed looks from half of the room, "but where do I figure into all of this?"

"You and Sam are with me," Gabriel said. "Once Crowley draws Abaddon out, our forces secure the area with a giant demon snare. They shrink the snare, smiting as we go, then leave you to off the bitch with the First Blade."

"Wait, why am I going too?" Sam asked.

Gabriel smiled. He knew that with Sam along, Dean would be more vicious with the First Blade, seeing the brother he had taken it on to protect. He also knew that Dean likely hadn't told Sam just why he had accepted it and the truth behind the story. "Why, Sam, you're absolutely vital to the plan. I couldn't possibly leave you behind while we got all the glory, now could I?"

Sam rolled his eyes. If that was the answer he got at a war council, there would never be a serious answer. That was okay, he was used to not knowing the whole plan. It was what he had grown up with, and lately Dean had become even more like their father, keeping things from him and claiming it was for his own good.

"Wonderful, we're all in agreement. We have 12 hours until we're ready to go. Make the best of it." At the unspoken dismissal, everyone left the room except for Balthazar, Sam, Dean, and Crowley. Even the contingent that had been standing around him filed out. Dean raised an eyebrow when they left.

"They're more for his protection than anything else. Crowley isn't about to do anything that would endanger our agreement," Balthazar explained.

"You entered into an agreement with the King of Hell?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"No," Gabriel said, "I _wrote_ the agreement with the King of Hell. Zero room for wiggle. Besides, it benefits him to clear Earth of angels so he can go about his business sooner, and he won't get to the point of getting rid of angels unless we take care of Abaddon first. So really he's acting in his best interests right now." He looked over at the demon. "So, we were going to get into that plan of yours?"

With a minuscule twitch of the jaw, Crowley spoke. "I go in like I've been captured. Tell everyone to run. Abaddon knows I have blood magic holding all of my treasure chests closed. Demons scatter, word spreads, I pretend to be in excruciating pain while you pretend to be trying to force your way into my box. Abaddon is bound to show up with her own brute squad, but that's going to happen no matter what. She's not entirely stupid."

Balthazar and Gabriel thought about it for a moment, looking at each other. _What do you think? Is it feasible?_ Balthazar asked.

_If it's done right. It'll depend on how many she brings in. If it's too many, grab Crowley and get out, and call the signal to close the circle. The boys and I won't show up until most of the clean up work is done._ Gabriel looked at Crowley. "You're absolutely one hundred percent certain a demon trap will hold Abaddon, right?"

"Yeah," Sam cut in. "When we shot her with the bullet with a demon circle carved into it, she was helpless."

Balthazar and Gabriel both slowly turned to look at Sam and Dean. "You what?" Gabriel asked.

"Shot her with a carved bullet. Demon circle in it. We cut her up and buried the pieces." He seemed to realize what he was saying halfway through. "She escaped when Crowley interrupted us while we were trying to do the trials and close Hell."

"Oh, so now this is my fault?" Crowley snapped. "Look, if it hadn't been for your idiot selves not taking care of her the first time, or the second time, or even the third or fourth times, then we wouldn't be in this situation!" He stood up, knocking the chair over behind him. "Don't you try to blame _me_ for your shortsightedness."

"Sit," Balthazar ordered, righting the chair with her mind. She stared angrily as Crowley straightened his jacket and sat back down.

Gabriel was still staring at the boys. "This is why we don't leave things like this up to humans. Your race as a whole has managed to mess up more things than anyone else could possibly dream of. I mean, you had the last Knight of Hell sliced, diced, and helpless, and you let her escape."

"Alright, we screwed up. Again. We get it. Let's move on okay?" Dean was pissed at the whole situation he was in, and it didn't seem that there was any way out of it until this whole thing was over. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets just as his phone started vibrating. He pulled it out and stared at the screen before holding it up to show Gabriel. "It's Cas."

"Don't answer it," Gabriel said, as Dean answered the phone. "Or go ahead and answer it, don't listen to me. It's not like I have millennia of experience and know what I'm talking about or anything. Please, continue."

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, putting it on speakerphone. "What's up?"

"Dean, where are you?" Castiel sounded worried over the tinny speakers of Dean's phone.

"Oh, uh, you know. Little retreat I tend to go to when life starts to get crappy. It's not a 'where', though, so much as it is a 'who brought me here'."

There was a pause. "Dean, take me off speakerphone right now. I need to speak to you. Just you."

"So sorry, baby brother, that's not going to happen," Gabriel said, taking the phone out of Dean's hand. "But I'll tell you what I will do. I'll leave you on speakerphone for now so you can make sure we're not doing anything untoward to Dean."

"Gabriel, I don't know what you're planning, but leave Dean and Sam out of this. They are not your pawns."

Crowley opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a glare and a gesture from Balthazar.

"No," said Gabriel, "they're not. As a matter of fact, they're closer to generals at this point. If we're keeping with the chess parlance, I'd peg them as queens, hands down. But that's beside the point right now."

"What is your point then?"

"Castiel, listen closely to me. Sam and Dean are under my protection right now. I am doing everything in my limited power to keep them safe. I am trying to help you here. Accept it as it's offered. And keep yourself and your people out of the western half of the United States and Canada for a day or so." He was speaking quietly, seriously. "You and me, Castiel, we're cut from a different fabric. I was pulled into that hellish encounter as much as you were, and you saw through me there. He let me go, didn't think my spirit was important, but it was me. It's still me. And I'm still trying to keep you safe."

Castiel breathed sharply into the phone. "What gave it away?"

"You never take care of your clothes. Honestly, what were you thinking letting a tear that big go for so long?" Gabriel didn't care that nobody else understood the conversation. At this point his primary concern was keeping Castiel and his band away from the massive battle about to ensue. The more of Metatron's forces that could be taken down without casualties on his part, the better it was for everyone.

"If they are harmed, I will come find you. There will be retribution."

"Sweetheart, if they're harmed, there probably won't be much me left to come after, but I welcome you to try. Your boyfriend is getting impatient at this whole thing. Wants his phone back, I suppose." Gabriel handed it back to Dean.

He took it off speaker and held it up to his ear, stepping as far away from the group as he could. "Look, Cas, we're fine. I promise. I can't tell you any more than Gabe did, sorry. Just stay safe yourself, okay? Yeah...yeah, do that. Okay, bye." He hung up and glared at Gabriel. "Don't think I'll forget that queen comment anytime soon." He knew that it was a compliment, that the queen was the most powerful piece on the board, but it still rankled him to be called one.

"Believe me, that is the least of my concerns at the moment," Gabriel replied. He turned to Crowley. "If this all goes south, we're pulling you out like the valued prisoner you're pretending to be. We'll make sure that there's plenty of confusion for when you do eventually escape. No need for fancy tricks, leave that to us."

Balthazar stepped around the table and took Sam and Dean's arms, guiding them back out into the warehouse. "Come on, we need to talk."

"No shit," Dean said, pulling his arm roughly away. He still followed closely beside Balthazar, but he didn't need an angel holding his hand to walk through a door, even if she was good looking.


	9. Feel Better, Little Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels sure as hell won't be able to any time soon.

Once they were back at the Impala, Balthazar stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Dean. "Your attitude needs a lot of work right now."

"You want to talk about my attitude?" Dean shot back. "I'm not the one blowing up buildings to attract people's attention, then giving them a bunch of bullshit information that's really kind of important to know but hey, nobody can possibly tell anyone. Then you leave us hanging for nearly three days before killing my car. I don't even care if there's no damage on it, that's low. You don't go after a man's car. I'm tired of being in the middle of the worst of heaven's bullshit and getting jerked around like a damn pet."

"Well, now, do you feel any better?" Balthazar didn't even wait for an answer. "I'm in a dying vessel, spending all of my energy trying to shore up the organs before they fail on me. It was chosen for the specific purpose of hosting me, so I don't have a say in the matter. Furthermore, I have to have constant assistance from Gabriel to make sure I have enough grace to heal the body. We're trying to sequence the DNA to find out what the exact problem is, but it's difficult when organs are constantly failing at the cellular level and we're trying to plan a war. Furthermore, I'm just as limited as you in telling people important information, such as explaining to Castiel that he needs to do as Gabriel says and not question anything. The more he questions, the more information Metatron can get from him, because Metatron _can_ and _does_ get information from the minds of lesser angels. The more you interact with Castiel, the more you are able to tell him, the more Metatron can understand what's going on around him and the more he can plan and be prepared. And short of killing Metatron, there is absolutely zero chance of regaining heaven. All of the angels who die while heaven is closed are locked in limbo, they are physically unable to regain bodily form but they can still see what's going on around them. We're having to plan for taking down Abaddon, taking down Metatron, and then basically forming a huge protective wall around all of the other angels that have been killed since they all fell, making sure there's no rioting or chaos when they finally do gain form again, and then enact that plan within a ridiculously short timeframe. We keep coming back to this planet, this tiny little planet with its tiny little people and their tiny little minds, and do you know what we get out of it, Dean? The satisfaction of a job well done. Except we're barely even getting that, because the job hasn't been done well in centuries! Every single other angel who was in that room is dealing with the crushing doubt that Metatron will find out what's going on, that he will be able to stop us, and that he will come and destroy us all. Do you know how hard it is to lead a demoralized army in protecting that which they have hated since nearly the beginning of time?" She had been slowly advancing on Dean and now had him backed up against the car, leaning into his personal space.

Sam stepped forward and touched Balthazar's elbow, intending to gently pull her back away from Dean. At his touch, she spun around and stormed off back to the office, leaving two very confused brothers in her wake. The willowy angel was coming out of the door as Balthazar went in, and they exchanged a few words before she came over to the boys.

"It's been a while since I saw you last. Congratulations on surviving."

"And you would be?" Sam asked, not wanting to play the usual mind games that angels excelled at.

"Anael," she said, smiling at them. "I apologize that my form is changed from what you knew. That body was not a reflection of who I truly am. This form is much more comfortable of a vessel for me."

Dean just shook his head and reached into the back seat to grab his bag. Slamming the door behind him, he strode off into an empty corner of the warehouse, muttering to himself.

"Sorry about him," Sam said, watching him go. All he wanted to do was go be alone as well, but someone had to play nice with the angels.

"I understand his anger and his frustration, but he must learn that this is the price he pays for rash actions. His reasoning was honorable, but as they say, the paths of glory lead but to the grave." She put out a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Will you accept my offer of help?"

Sam shook his head a tiny amount. "I don't know," he said. "I don't know what I'm getting into with all of this, and I don't know what help you can be. But sure, what could it hurt to get some help, right? Just as long as there's no price to pay."

She smiled sadly at him. "The only price is your agreement. I want to wipe away some of the hurt on your soul, Sam. All of your memories will still be intact, but the pain that comes with them will be dulled. You will feel better for it. It's the least help I can be at this point. Do you still accept?" She hoped he would, the pain that he carried around was palpable to the angels who came near him. When he was standing beside Dean it was nearly overwhelming at times. She doubted Dean would ever accept such help unless it came from Castiel, and perhaps not even then.

"Yeah, sure, fine," Sam said. He closed his eyes and as he shrugged, it felt like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders. He stood up straight and took a deep breath, opening his eyes. The ever present exhaustion he had carried around for years was gone. "Wow...thanks."

Anael leaned in and gave Sam a gentle hug. "You deserve better, Sam Winchester. I am only sorry I cannot give you more." She stood up as tall as possible and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Stay safe tomorrow. Take care of your brother. I would offer the same help to him if I thought he wouldn't reject it outright."

"I'll talk to him," Sam said, hugging her in return. "Thanks again." He stood back and watched her head back to the main room. He grabbed his own bag as well as some old wool blankets and headed over to the corner to get some rest with Dean. He could see Dean crack an eye at him to make sure it was actually Sam, and he tossed a blanket over him before laying down himself. This was familiar territory, grabbing a nap before the big event. This was something Sam could deal with on his own.

Once they were both sleeping soundly, Gabriel went out to where Sam and Dean were laying and gave Dean the same treatment Anael had given Sam. He didn't care so much about Dean's wishes in the matter, the Mark of Cain on his arm was a huge blight on his soul and there was only so much that angels could be expected to face on a daily basis. A surly human who walked around in a miasma of his own making was just not one of them. Let Dean be as pissed as he wanted about it afterwards, it was bound to make him feel better and to make the angels who had to be around him less edgy.


	10. Preparation for Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel takes the boys out for breakfast.

It was nine hours before either of the Winchesters started stirring. Sam was awake first, sitting up and looking around in confusion. He could tell he had been left alone for a long time. More surprisingly, Dean was still asleep beside him, looking more relaxed than he'd been in a long time. As Sam watched, he rolled over still in his sleep and curled up against the cold air. Sam stood up and gently laid his own blanket on top of Dean. He grabbed his backpack and headed back towards the Impala to drop it off. Gabriel was leaning against the trunk, waiting for him.

"Morning, sunshine," Gabriel said brightly. "I take it you slept well?"

"Yeah," Sam replied blearily. "Do you have any coffee?" He opened the back door and tossed his bag into the seat, closing the door again as quietly as possible. He opened the front door to pop the trunk, dislodging Gabriel from where he was lounging.

"You doubt me?" Gabriel asked, mock hurt. He stepped away, turning to look appreciatively into the armory in the trunk, coffee held out ready for Sam to take it.

He grabbed the coffee and took a drink, rooting around in the hidden bottom of the trunk until he found a few angel blades and some boxes of bullets. "Hold these," he said, handing them to Gabriel as he closed everything up again.

"That's quite an arsenal you've built up there." Gabriel handed the items back to Sam and leaned back against the closed trunk. "Must have taken you boys some time to build it up."

Sam just rolled his eyes and headed back over to where Dean was still sleeping. "Wake up, coffee's ready," he said, nudging Dean with his foot. Before Dean was awake enough to react, Sam was two steps back and out of arm's reach. Dean's knife hit right where Sam had been standing.

"Go to hell," Dean muttered, trying to roll back over, but Sam stepped back up beside him and started nudging him again.

Sam smiled. "Been there already. Didn't like the place. Get up."

"Go back then."

Sam squatted down and pulled both of the blankets off of him. "Dean, we're three hours out from this whole thing going down." There was no reaction. "And Gabriel's been standing over by the Impala for a while now. I don't know what he's up to."

Dean was sitting up in an instant. He looked over and saw Gabriel waving at him, leaning casually against the Impala and grinning. He punched Sam in the arm as hard as he could and glared at him. "Don't scare me like that, asshole."

"Wanna try that again? You must still be asleep, I barely felt it." Sam laughed and handed Dean his coffee cup. "Here. I've already got everything we'll need out of the car, we can get our stuff together once you're awake." He stood up and walked back to Gabriel, trying to keep from laughing as he went.

"I swear," Gabriel said, falling into step with Sam, "your brother and his car. There's something not natural about it." He handed Sam another cup of coffee that Sam could have sworn hadn't been in his hands a moment ago. "Perks of being an angel. Instant coffee, whenever I need it."

"Thanks, Mr. Coffee," Sam said, taking a drink from the cup. They headed back into the small room and Sam took a seat around the table. There were angels milling about, keeping an eye on Crowley and going over their last minute plans for the upcoming battle. Gabriel sat down beside him. "What do you think our chances are?"

"Of what, exactly?" Gabriel asked. "This operation? If the information given to us by Crowley is good and accurate, pretty good. Minimal casualties. Going after Metatron? It's hard to say yet. We'll have to see how this goes first and then rerun some of the numbers."

Crowley snorted from across the table, crossing his arms and looking purposefully in another direction. "If..."

"Yes, _if_ ," Gabriel said forcefully, turning to face him. "We've had you as our prisoner for two days now. A lot can happen in two days. Just because you haven't noticed anyone messing with the boxes doesn't mean that the facility is safe, or that your information about the strength of forces inside is accurate. Our scouts can see a lot, but they can't get into the building easily."

An angel appeared behind Gabriel, standing loosely at attention. "Sir, the building is safe. We managed to get in and erase enough of the runes and sigils that transportation will be simple."

"Wonderful news. Thank you. Go get some rest while you can. Check on Balthazar, let her know the countdown is now reset at one hour." He turned to look at Sam. "Go get yourself and Dean ready. We won't be in the first wave, but we'll be standing by waiting for the signal. Be back in here ready to go within 45 minutes."

Sam nodded and headed back out. Dean was pulling on a new shirt outside the Impala. "Less than an hour," he called ahead, and he watched Dean's head turn slowly to lock eyes with him.

"You said three hours. Tell me I didn't fall back asleep." He grabbed his coffee and took a big drink, wincing as it burned his throat.

"No, Gabriel moved the timeframe up. Scouts got back early or something." Sam handed Dean one of the angel blades and the box of bullets. "Let's load up."

They fell into a comfortable routine of silently disassembling and cleaning their guns, reloading them, and making sure everything was in order. They stocked up on holy water to squirt, holy oil to burn, and did a visual inspection of each other's anti-possession tattoos.

"Alright," Dean said at length, "let's go." He drank the last of his coffee in one swallow and strode towards the office. The air was charged with nervous anticipation. Angels were milling about in small groups, clustering close to each other and talking between themselves quietly.

Gabriel intercepted the Winchesters as soon as they came through the doorway. "Perfect timing, I was just coming to look for you," he said quietly, guiding them into another office. "Here's what's going to happen. Others are going in first to secure the area. Like I said last night, they're setting the demon trap huge and shrinking it down as a team. Once it's sufficiently small to actually corner Abaddon, they'll call me in, and I'll bring you two."

"How, exactly, does a demon trap get shrunk?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"It's somewhere between terrakinesis and having a metaphysical circle to begin with. Trust me, it's safe, it's been done before, and if she's really able to be trapped by one, we'll get her." Gabriel grabbed each of them and suddenly they were in a different place. It was warmer here, but still dark outside.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, looking around. He looked up at the sky and saw familiar constellations, but he had never been good at pinpointing location or time based on where the stars were in the sky. They were on a residential street and could see the lights on the horizon of what looked to be a fairly large city.

"Where _were_ we?" Dean asked. "Europe?"

"Outskirts of Phoenix, and geographically, no. Technically part of Denmark, but don't remind the natives."

"What the hell? Why did you take us to Greenland?" Dean asked. Sam looked surprised that Dean figured it out so fast, but didn't say anything.

Gabriel rolled his head and looked at him. "What, would you rather I stand in the middle of Times Square with enough followers to amass an army and shout 'METATRON, HERE WE ARE, AND WE'RE COMING FOR YOU NEXT!' and wait for him to notice? Trust me, that base is a lot more comfortable than where I question people and make secret deals. Maybe when this is all over I'll give you a quick tour of that one."

"Yeah, maybe not." Dean started walking down the sidewalk. Three men standing around in the early morning tended to attract more attention than if they were moving. Walking people had a reason to be out in the morning, they were going somewhere. Standing people had no reason, especially if they were strangers. Gabriel had a point, they didn't want to attract any attention, so Dean was going to use all of his skills to blend in. "You got the tools I need?" He could hear Gabriel behind him make a sound of amusement. "Look, I don't want some smartass answer. I asked a question. Yes or no."

"Yes," Gabriel said. He didn't understand Dean's nerves. They were away from the action until it was safe to go in. There was no chance of it going badly and coming back on them and there was nearly no actual risk to them. He stopped in his tracks when the answer hit him. Dean was upset because he wasn't in the middle of things or in control. He was being used like a tool and it went against everything he had ever been taught about self-sufficiency and not relying on anyone else. With a few quick strides he had caught up to the boys, walking silently in the pre-dawn glow.

Dean didn't have a destination in mind, he just walked through the suburbs aimlessly, waiting for something to change. He had no idea what sort of timeframe they were looking at as far as when they would be called. The main force was attacking, if Sam was right, in less than an hour, but it could take a while after that for the area to be secured. He had no idea why Gabriel had brought them here instead of letting them stay at the base in Greenland. It had seemed secure, and there were plenty of angels milling about that could have caught Metatron's attention and drawn it that way.

After half an hour they found themselves in a strip mall. The only lights on were at a small diner, and that's right where Dean headed. He didn't have his car, he wasn't sure he had his wallet, but he was sure as hell going to get a good meal before this all went down. Gabriel could pay for it with his angel mojo for all he cared, or whisk them away when the manager got mad at them for skipping the bill. As long as he ate, he'd be a bit happier.

They were seated at a booth by the front window. Gabriel moved to sit beside Dean, but changed his mind when Dean shot him a dark glare. They all ordered coffee from a bored looking waitress and then stared at each other while they waited for their drinks. "When does it start?" Sam asked.

"Soon," Gabriel said. "Ten, fifteen minutes until the first part, and then probably another twenty or thirty after that for the net to close. Enough time for a nice meal." He pulled out a pen and pad of paper from inside his jacket and began sketching a building layout. When the waitress came back the paper suddenly looked like he was writing something.

They all ordered meals and as the waitress left, the paper changed back to show the layout. "Okay, so here's a rough sketch of the area. We'll be going in probably right here," Gabriel began, indicating what looked to be a back entrance. "The area around the building will be cleared for us. The circle should be here." He drew a large circle, filling an entire room. "There's going to be as few demons as we can get in there. We're trying to make this as easy as possible for you."

"What are those?" Sam asked, pointing at several overlapping squares on the map.

"Those are things that you should avoid at all cost. That's Crowley's secret stash of treasure. The boxes have been secured with blood magic by him, he'll know if you look at them wrong, and we have no idea what's in there. Seriously, keep away from it, let us deal with it." Gabriel looked intently at Sam, trying to gauge how likely he was to listen and do as he was told.

Sam looked right back at Gabriel. "Are we talking actual weapons here, or just spell supplies?"

"What part of 'we have no idea what's in there' did you not get? It could be the bones of small children, it could be rocks he found were particularly pretty, it could be the demonic equivalent of nukes. It might be actual nukes. We don't know, and Crowley's not talking."


	11. The Battle Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trap is set, and Abaddon falls right into it.

Balthazar sighed. Her body was holding up well, she and Gabriel had put some extra protective measures in place to keep it strong at the very least through the next week without too much work. She stood at a podium, overlooking a large group of other angels. Some she knew well, and others she had never met before.

"Brothers and sisters," she began. "We are about to begin. Each of you knows your place in the operation. You have all been briefed, your commanders have been over the plans in detail. There is little room for error, this must go quickly and quietly if we are to do this without alerting Metatron. We will be victorious today. I will see you again once it is over." She stepped down, not expecting any cheering. It was standard for a speech to be given before going into a large battle, though most speeches in the past that she had seen usually consisted of thanking God for their imminent victory, praising Him, and reminding all involved how evil the enemy was. Balthazar didn't think that it was necessary to keep that tradition alive at this point.

In the next room over, Crowley was standing surrounded by five of the strongest angels available. Balthazar walked in and nodded to them. One of them went back out to the crowd to send off the advance team. Crowley was sweating despite the cool air breeze coming through the leaky walls, and Balthazar looked just as nervous.

"Fancy indulging me with some inspiring words?" Crowley asked.

Balthazar looked at him, tilting her head to the side and raising an eyebrow. "Don't betray us and pray you don't die."

"You must make a killing at corporate retreats."

"Yes, mostly demons," she shot back. "Now if you don't mind, I've got to make this look believable for your people."

Crowley shrank back immediately, though Balthazar hadn't moved. "What exactly are you planning on doing to me?"

Balthazar rolled her eyes. "Making it look believable." She waved her hand in front of Crowley's face and he could feel blood trickling from his nose and bruising and swelling forming, though there was no pain associated with it.

He reached up and felt a cheek and was surprised when his finger encountered a gash nearly down to the bone. He pulled his hand away and stared at the blood on his fingers, tasting it after a moment. "That's an interesting party trick. I like it. How do you do that anyway, nerve blocking? Someone else's blood? It's definitely not an illusion."

"I am an angel of the Lord," Balthazar said with a smile. "Comes with its perks." She paused and closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded at the angels. "We're ready. Let's go."

With a flutter of wings, they were all outside the rear entrance of Crowley's compound. Balthazar could feel the weakening effects of the few intact sigils designed to detract angels. She nodded and turned to the door, and the four angels grabbed Crowley roughly.

"What the hell?" Crowley yelled, and Balthazar smiled as she used her power to throw the door open ahead of their entourage. "Let go of me, you buffoons!" Crowley was struggling desperately to get out of the hands of his captors, but it did him no good, all they did was tighten their grip.

"Hello, darlings," Balthazar said to the surprised demons. Her eyes flashed with her inner Grace. "It might be best if you ran now, save yourselves the trouble of dying ignominiously later."

"HELP ME!" Crowley screamed at the top of his lungs, which had a definite effect on the demons. They all scattered, running for the nearest exit that didn't have a horde of angels standing in front of it. "Where are you going?" Crowley yelled after them, squirming in the iron grip of the angels. "I'm your king! Come back here and help me!"

Once all of the demons had cleared outside, Balthazar stepped back outside and looked up at the sky. Arms outstretched, she reached as far as she could with her mind and sent the signal for the second phase to begin. Angels that had been harrying the forces of Abaddon began falling back. Balthazar went back inside to put her own seal on the boxes that Crowley wanted kept safe. It was as much to ensure that Crowley didn't get into them and change the contents as protection from Abaddon.

The four guards around Crowley let go of him, but stayed crowded closely around him, lest any demon wander inside the room. Crowley glared angrily at Balthazar messing with his boxes, but he knew better than to say anything at this point. There was no way of knowing if someone was actually watching, and he had to act like the prisoner. A few times he made as if to move, but the guards were there to grab him and forcefully shove him back into the protected area between them.

Eventually there was a sigh from behind them. As a whole, the angels turned to face the door where the voice had come from. "Crowley, sweetheart, what a surprise to see you. We all thought you were dead. But what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Abaddon asked, faking concern.

_NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW_ Balthazar thought with all her might, calmly turning back to face Abaddon. "Hello, I don't believe we've met."

Abaddon raised an eyebrow. The woman in front of her was similar looking, the major difference being her jet black hair. "I don't believe we have. Abaddon, Queen of Hell. And you are?"

Balthazar sauntered over to Crowley, edging her way between the guards. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned up close. "His keeper. I've done what you couldn't and actually captured him. What more do you need to know?" She could feel Crowley grab her side and squeeze tightly, hidden behind her body. That was the signal that the demon trap was in place and working.

Abaddon rolled her eyes and reached out a hand, fingers outstretched, as though she was trying to fling them away, but there was no effect. She tried again and again, shoving her arm further in front of her and stepping closer and closer to the group of angels.

"Oh, also, it appears I'm your keeper too," Balthazar said as the four burly angels stepped forward and grabbed Abaddon. "There's a demon trap half a continent wide. All of your followers, and all of his who were stupid enough to be caught in it are going to be sent back to hell. As for the two of you, we've got other plans. So why don't we sit tight and wait for the net to close, shall we?" She moved to stand directly in front of Abaddon. "I'm Balthazar, angel of the Lord. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

Abaddon's face twisted in fury. "An angel? Crowley, you let yourself get taken by those holy dogs?"

Balthazar spun to face Crowley. "You will not speak to her. Not to answer a direct question, not to taunt, not for any reason. One word and I will end it all right now and you'll never get the satisfaction of seeing her die first. Do you understand me?"

Crowley nodded in response, bowing his head meekly. It rankled him inside to have to play nice like this, but with angelic warding on all of his stored weapons and no telling if anyone was watching in from the windows, he had to play the part.

"Good boy," Balthazar said, and stepped forward to pet his cheek. Of course she chose the one that was ripped open, and Crowley winced in response, despite the lack of pain. Balthazar turned back to Abaddon. "Now, are you going to be a good little bitch, or am I going to have to give you the same treatment I gave him?"

With a primal scream, Abaddon jumped forward, arms outstretched, ready to claw Balthazar's face off, but the guards grabbed her first and held her tightly in place. She twisted and spat, lashing out any way she could. It was no use, the angels held her fast and she was cut off from her powers. "How dare you do this to me? I am a Knight of Hell!"

"Sweetheart, I've been around since creation. I was here before Cain was a gleam in his daddy's eye. How dare I do what to you? Treat you as you've treated my brothers and sisters? How dare you do such things in the first place?"

"It's what I was created to do," Abaddon hissed, still thrashing in the arms of her captors. "What's your excuse?"

"It's what I was created to do. Fight evil in any form it may take and protect the humans in my flock. And as I said before, I've been doing this a lot longer than you have, sister." Balthazar gave one last smirk and turned away, heading back to the stack of boxes that she was busy blessing and went back to work on it. _What is the status of the circle?_ she asked.

_Halfway there,_ Anael responded. _Our forces are overwhelming the demons outside the building and working their way outwards._

_When the ward hits the outer edges of the building, alert me and I will bring the boys in as you collapse it further._ Gabriel sounded stressed, but Balthazar supposed it was having something to do with herding the Winchesters around for the morning.

Balthazar smirked. Everything was falling right into place. It was Gabriel's plan to be sure, but she felt honored to be able to lead the bait. 

"What are you so pleased about?" Abaddon sneered. "My demons will be destroying your pathetic raiding party, and more are on their way."

"Be quiet," one of the guards said, leaning in close to her.

"Or what?"

Another of the guards wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed, crushing her windpipe and keeping her from drawing any breath. "Or we'll make you." She tried to fight back, but both of her arms were being held in place. Despite no breath, she kept kicking and squirming as fiercely as ever.

"Oh, do stop," Balthazar said. She stood up and walked back over to Crowley, running her hands along his face as she circled him. "You see how well I can treat my pets when they behave. I hate seeing them abused needlessly. Crowley, dear, tell her how strong my force is."

Crowley looked up at Abaddon, terror in his eyes. "Tens of thousands." It wasn't untrue, the Principalities was easily now the largest choir of angels after thousands of years of angels dying and joining them.

"And the safeguards?" Balthazar prompted.

"The perimeter of the demon trap is made of other overlapping traps. Nothing can get in or out." There was a slight tremor in his voice.

"And just in case she still feels safe, all high and mighty in her knighthood?" Balthazar kept stroking Crowley, healing many of the smaller cuts as she went.

Crowley swallowed and took a deep breath. "The Winchesters and the First Blade."

"Well done, pet," Balthazar crooned, running a finger along the largest gash on the cheek and closing it. She turned to face Abaddon, still attempting to break free from her captors. "As you can see, this has been some time in the planning. Every detail accounted for, eventualities discussed." She reached forward and took Abaddon by her hair, dragging her head down. "It's a pity about your vessel, though. Plenty of angels I know who'd die for a vessel like this." She let go of the hair and turned her back to Abaddon. "Now just calm down. Soon you and Crowley will be getting what you deserve."

"Lucifer will destroy you for this," Abaddon rasped.

Balthazar froze in place for a moment. "Lucifer is currently locked in an unending cage fight with Michael at the moment. And believe me, if he ever does escape, there will be an army ready to contain him. Now enough talking. Mommy has some actual work to do." She returned to the back door and took a deep breath of the air. "Demons aren't going to kill themselves, you know. Someone has to oversee the slaughter and make sure it's all done properly."

Abaddon renewed her fight to break free, but her guards merely clamped down harder on her. Balthazar smiled as she stepped outside. More angels filled the warehouse, intent on sweeping out any demons hiding inside. She smiled as they passed, and once she was out of sight of the doorway, she leaned heavily against the wall. It was disgraceful, having to treat anyone like that. And feigning interest in, and then having to heal and show affection for Crowley, absolutely disgusting. She only hoped that some day she would be greatly rewarded for her actions in this difficult period. Yes, she had made some mistakes before, but she was looking on this as a second chance, a chance to prove herself, no matter how difficult the task.

A demon came running around the outside of the building, fleeing some unseen predator. It saw Balthazar sitting there, unprotected and inattentive, and ran towards her, knife in hand. Balthazar cracked an eye and stared at the demon. "No," she said, mentally flinging it against the wall. The blade fell out of its hand as another angel ran around the corner in pursuit. Balthazar looked between the demon and the angel and smiled. "And here you probably thought I'd be easy, didn't you?" she patted him gently on the cheek then placed her palm on his forehead and exorcised the demon, sending him straight back to Hell. "Idiot." She nodded at the other angel who grinned and ran back out front to the main battle. Balthazar could hear the sounds, the screaming and the occasional clash of metal on metal as angels and demons drew their blades when necessary.

Within a few minutes, she could see a line of angels advancing. They had joined hands at this point, and each of them had their own demon trap wrapped around them. It was nearly time, then. The sounds of battle had quieted and she stood up and headed back inside. Abaddon had been subdued and forced into a chair, three guards surrounding her. The fourth had gone to stand by Crowley for show, and rested a hand heavily on his shoulder.

"Well, now that we've all had a bit of a rest, it's nearly time. Say whatever goodbyes you want to, pray to whomever you think will listen."

Crowley smiled. "Oh, Queen of Hell, save me in this, my hour of defeat. Protect me, Abaddon, from all those who would harm me. Smite these menacing angels, send them to their eternal rest. Watch over me, I pray." He paused, then looked directly at Abaddon. "Funny, my prayers to the Queen always go unanswered."


	12. The Battle Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen is dead, long live the King!

Several angels swarmed into the room and drew a new demon circle around the chair Abaddon was sitting in. The angels outside broke their larger demon trap, but kept the individual ones around them as a perimeter. When Abaddon was secured, they drew another one around Crowley. As he bristled at the indignation, Balthazar leaned up against him again, stroking his neck. "Heaven forbids you escape, pet."

There was a commotion outside the door as one last demon came out of hiding and tried to make it inside and cause as much damage as possible, but just as it got to the doorway, Sam and Dean arrived with Gabriel. Sam acted on instinct, reaching out and throwing it up against a wall and holding an angel blade to its throat. He looked at Gabriel, who nodded to confirm that it was in fact a demon and not one of his. Sam shoved the blade through the demon's throat, killing it. "Well, that's sure some welcome party," he said, turning back and smiling at Dean.

The three of them walked inside to see Abaddon helpless and broken in a chair within a demon circle. Crowley was standing as proudly as he could, a few small cuts and bruises still marring his face.

"Wow," Dean said. "It's like shooting fish in a barrel." He held his hand out to Gabriel, who obliged him by putting the First Blade into it. Dean stalked towards Crowley, eyes narrowed.

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait a second," Gabriel said, turning a finger in the air to turn Dean around. "We have a deal with him. He gets to watch Abaddon die first. Reward for bringing her to us and all."

"And then what?" Abaddon was barely understandable, but she was managing to force air through her crushed throat. "You'll take your army in and sweep out all the demons? Kill them all?"

"Oh heavens no," Gabriel said happily. "We've got a much better plan. Put someone on the throne that we'd prefer to be in charge. Someone we have an understanding with. Mutually beneficial relationship, and all that." He turned his head. "Crowley, how would you like the position?"

A whistling hiss came from Abaddon's mouth as she tried to shriek with rage. She stood up from the chair and threw it at Balthazar, who brushed it aside with a flick of her wrist.

"All hail the Queen," Crowley replied, smiling. "Long may she reign." He bowed formally to her then waved a hand in her direction.

Dean advanced on her demon circle. "I've been waiting to do this for a long time, bitch," he said, stepping inside. "There's no escaping this time." She backed into the far corner of the circle and he followed, toying with her. There was an edge of insanity in his eyes and it honestly terrified Abaddon. She was powerless, stuck in a broken vessel in a cage with the one thing in the world that could actually harm her.

With surprising speed, Dean shoved the blade up into Abaddon's stomach. Her mouth opened in surprise and a glowing light flashed twice before it was gone. Dean followed the body to the floor, pulling the blade from her stomach and bringing it down again, pummeling the body until it was nearly unrecognizable. There was a dull roar in his ears which he ignored, the only thing on his mind was destroying this thing in front of him, ridding the world of it for good.

Gabriel stepped forward and grabbed Dean's arm, the one holding the blade. He dragged him to his feet and away from the crumpled body. "Easy," he said quietly, guiding Dean into another room. Balthazar blocked Sam from following them, and he looked on with concern.

There was a couch in the next room where Gabriel led a now pliant Dean. He sat Dean down and squatted in front of him. "Hey, you okay?"

Dean looked down at the bloodied bone in his hand, and then seemed to notice the rest of the blood covering him. The First Blade tottered in his loose fingers and he started shaking. He knew he had lost control again. It was as though someone else were controlling him when he got it into his hands, and very little could stop him. Whatever this force was, it was getting stronger and stronger every time he used it, and he wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to fight off this anger too much longer.

"Dean, look at me. Let me help you." Gabriel waved a hand and cleaned up the blood. "I can make this a bit easier on you. Give you some control. I need you to agree to it, though. I can't force this." He knew he had to make sure Dean stayed strong enough to use the First Blade one last time without breaking entirely. He remembered how thoroughly Cain had broken, and how many centuries it had taken him to recover. He cared for Dean, after a fashion, and didn't want to see the same thing happen to him. He didn't even know if the immortality came with the Mark of Cain or if it was because Cain had been the first demon, and there was no easy way to find that out.

"Get the hell away from me," Dean yelled suddenly, backing up into the couch. He felt out of control and cornered, and the First Blade had slipped from his hands. There was no way to go for it to protect himself, Gabriel would stop him. Angels always stopped him.

Gabriel didn't move. He let Dean back away. "Not gonna happen, buddy." He kept his voice quiet and calm. "Listen, I know you're feeling a bit messed up right now."

"You don't know shit about me!"

"Yeah, I do. I saw the exact same thing happen to Cain. I watched him spiral downwards and take out everyone around him. It took him a very long time to be able to be around people again." Gabriel rocked back on the balls of his feet. "Listen, this isn't just about needing you and wanting to use you for my own purposes. This is about you and your brother, and I don't want to see either of you killed if I can avoid it." He sat still for a full minute, watching Dean breathe and struggle to calm himself down. "Please, Dean, let me help you."

Dean took one last deep breath. He was shaking all over and felt completely out of control of his own body. "Cas," he whispered, a desperate prayer for help.

"He's not here now, Dean. He can't come here. We can't let him know what we're doing, I'm sorry. When this is all done and heaven is opened again you can tell him all you want."

"Help me," Dean whispered, his voice cracking. "Please." He looked up and locked eyes with Gabriel, desperation shining through. "I don't wanna hurt Sammy. I gotta keep him safe."

Gabriel leaned forward and pulled Dean into his arms. "This is probably going to hurt. I'm sorry." He held Dean closely and reached out with his grace. He could feel the brand on Dean's arm, pulsating with anger and hate. There were tendrils trailing out from there, deep through Dean's body and soul. He had done a cleanse of his soul the night before, but that was all of the surface grime, this was much harder to get rid of. His arms held Dean tightly in place as he began pulling the largest tendrils that were wrapping their way through everything, removing them. He could hear Dean screaming in agony but kept digging. "Hang in there," Gabriel said. He wasn't even sure Dean could hear him at that point, but he had to say something. The largest of the tendrils were gone now, it was just down to the cleanup of the smaller ones, but they were no less painful to remove.

Dean felt like he had just been ripped apart. He was resting limply in Gabriel's arms, whimpering, unable to even scream with the residual pain. He felt Gabriel lay him back down on the couch, adjusting him for comfort. "I'm sorry," Gabriel whispered into his ear as he covered him with a blanket. Dean huffed in amusement. It would have been a laugh if he had the energy for it.

"What's so funny?" Gabriel asked, glad to see Dean finding humor in the situation.

"Angels," Dean slurred. "Never sorry. Dicks."

"I will have you know, I've been called an asshole more than I've ever been called a dick," Gabriel retorted. "Now get some rest, you need it. You've been through a lot." He patted Dean's arm gently and headed back into the other room. Balthazar was still forcibly restraining Sam. Gabriel nodded and Balthazar let go, but Gabriel grabbed Sam before he could get through the door. "Leave him alone right now."

"What the hell did you do to him?" Sam asked, straining to get by.

"Calm down," Gabriel said sternly. "I've dealt with one hysterical Winchester, I don't want to deal with another. Go sit nicely. We'll talk, then you can go see him." He looked over at Balthazar, then jerked his head to Crowley. "Get him out of here, he's got an escape attempt to plan and pull off. Keep guards here at a distance. Start making whatever plans you need to. I'll be there when I can."

Balthazar nodded and went over to Crowley, still standing calmly in his demon circle. With a kick, Balthazar broke the circle and took Crowley's arm. They disappeared. Sam was still struggling to get through the doorway.

Gabriel physically lifted Sam and carried him over to a chair. "Sit," he commanded, setting Sam down on his feet and giving him another chance. Sam sat and glared at him, and Gabriel summoned another chair to sit in across from him. "That thing on Dean's arm that gives him the ability to do horrible things? You might have guessed this by now, but it's a bad thing. Every time he uses it, it..." He paused and held his hands in front of him, trying to come up with the right words. "It's like it's eating away at him, replacing him with evil and darkness. And it's happening faster than he can compensate. I had to go in and remove a lot of that taint. I'm sure it felt like I was tearing his very soul apart, but it needed to be done. And I made sure he agreed to it first."

Sam shook his head, still angry and wary. "So you what, asked him before you tortured him?"

"Would you rather he snap and kill you instead? You saw how he butchered that demon, you saw just how out of control he was. I had to exert a lot of power to get him calm enough to walk into the other room, and he went straight into shock from it all." Gabriel raised his voice and leaned forward. "The First Blade has one purpose. Just one. It's designed to destroy things. And without intervention it would destroy your brother from the inside. Nobody wants that. Not heaven, not hell, not you, and certainly not him."

Sam waited a moment, taking in all the information. "Is he okay?"

"He will be. He's a little rough right now, sleeping it off. What I did to him was basically a violation of his body and soul, but it removed the worst of the spreading evil from him. I'm also going to make sure that he doesn't see the First Blade again until it's time to kill Metatron, and afterwards it's being kept safe in Heaven."

"Why do you even care?" Sam asked.

"Got a few years?" Gabriel shot back. "It's a long story." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "When I see you and Dean, fighting the good fight, doing your thing, it reminds me of what I used to be. Out with my brothers, ridding creation of evil, all the good-natured teasing and joking we could handle. The archangels, the seven of us, we were inseparable." He looked sadly at Sam. "I know what it's like to watch your brother change into something evil. I know what it's like to lose them, and to lose that closeness. Plus, I've got a lot of respect for you."

"You do?" Sam's tone made it clear he didn't believe Gabriel at all.

"Sammy boy, anyone who is willing to stand up to me on a regular basis deserves respect. It's been probably a good thousand years since the last time anyone actually challenged me. You and Dean? Bust right in, mess up my life, get involved with the family, ignore me, actively do what I tell you not to do, destroy the entire fiction I'd taken so long building up, and don't even apologize. You got me nearly killed once and actually killed another time." He grinned. "It's refreshing."

"Refreshing," Sam said, doubtful. "Yeah, exactly. So how long is Dean going to be out of it?" He was quickly getting very disturbed at how weird this conversation had turned.

"Honestly? I have no idea. I've never had to remove a taint from a transferred mark of pure evil before. It could be hours, could be days. My plan was to make sure he was actually asleep and out of it, get you calmed down, then get back to the base. You can nursemaid your brother, I'll lend you an angel to help if you need it, and I can plan for the next fight." He stood up, offering Sam a hand which was waved off. They walked back into the other room where Dean was asleep on the couch. "Out like a light," Gabriel said, and smiled. "Wait here just a second, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"Out to tell the guards left behind exactly how I want this place secured. I'm particular when it comes to weapons of unknown potential." He jogged quickly to go all the way outside, but was back within a few minutes. "Ready to go?"


	13. Goodbye, Little Humans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

It ended up being three hours before Dean woke up. He blinked blearily and looked around, seeing Sam. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Sam echoed, moving over to his bedside. "How're you feeling?"

Dean sat up slowly, groaning. "Like my insides got scrambled and then put back." The room was spartan and not one that Dean remembered being in before. "Where are we?"

"Different building in the Greenland complex. This place is bigger than we thought."

Dean waved a hand, silencing Sam before he could get going. "Is there anything to drink around here?"

Sam handed him a cup of water. "Here. You've only been asleep for a few hours."

"Good," Dean said after drinking all of the water. "Then we can still sit in on the planning for taking down Metatron, right?" He saw Sam wince. "What? What the hell did I miss?"

"There's been some new developments on the angel war front," Sam said. "Gabriel said as soon as you woke up he was going to explain things and probably take us back to the States for a bit."

Dean's eyes got wide, then narrowed. "Then have you told him I'm awake yet?"

"Dean-o, I know all," Gabriel said, coming through the door. "Seriously, why do you guys keep doubting me?" He went to Dean's side and grabbed his right arm, examining it closely. "Everything looks good, on a metaphysical level. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been to hell and back."

"Well, you have, so you would know what it feels like. You should be back to normal in a day or so." He stepped back. "So here's the deal. There's something going on with the rest of the angels. We're not asking you to report back. As a matter of fact, I'm specifically telling you, if you get involved, do not bring ANY news back. If you think there's something that absolutely must be shared, get in touch with me directly. Nobody else. Not even Balthazar." He stopped, making sure it was sinking in.

Dean's jaw twitched. "Are you gonna actually tell us what big secret we're walking back into, or let us figure it out on our own?" He folded his arms across his chest.

"Not sure how much you remember from the Cold War era, but there you have it. Castiel has himself an army. It seems he actually listened to me, the idiot. Now he and Metatron are posturing for war. If you two are missing for much longer, Metatron's going to notice. He might get the wrong idea and pull the trigger, and if he wipes Castiel's forces off the map, there won't be anything we can do to stop him." He stopped again and shook his head. "Look, I know all you're going to want to do when you get out of here is go straight to my little brother and tell him everything you can. Just...don't?"

"Why not? Doesn't he deserve to know that he's not actually alone in all of this?" Sam took a few steps closer to Gabriel.

"Do you remember yesterday? How worried he was when he found out you were with me? How hard he was trying to warn you? He's not going to accept that I'm not actually a danger to you or this planet. Or to him. At this point I don't think we factor into his calculations at all. If he finds out that we even exist on the same plane, we lose the element of surprise. Right now we're working hard on making sure our plans are foolproof."

"Oh, and we're the fools who can mess it up?" Dean shifted and sat up straighter.

"Did you hear me say that?" Gabriel snapped. "No? Then that's not what I said now was it?" He sighed. "Look, even before Metatron started playing Dad, he had eyes and ears everywhere. I wouldn't put it past him to have spies at the highest level in Castiel's organization. Castiel isn't about to admit that his two pet humans got taken by Principalities, he knows you'll be in danger and he'll be ostracized for still associating with you. That means it's incumbent on you to keep your mouths shut. If you have to say anything about where you were, say you were working on your own to take down Abaddon and got caught up in all the angels. Then it doesn't matter who you're talking to, they'll think you were on the right side."

"Look, no offense, but we can keep secrets just fine. We don't need someone holding our hand through the process." Sam was tired of all of this already, the politics of being an ally of heaven and the angels. "So take us back and let us know how to contact you if we need to."

"Yeah, and next time give us some warning before you come take us," Dean added.

"What, the dead car wasn't warning enough? What would you suggest, a detailed text message?"

"Or a phone call, yeah," Dean said.

"Spies. Everywhere. Even at the NSA, I'm sure. No cellular devices for me. If you need me, go back to the old-fashioned way. Get down on your knees." Gabriel leered at Dean. "Now get up off your ass so I can reunite you with your love and get you both out of my hair!" He walked out the door, stopping on the other side of the threshold.

"Come on," Sam said, offering Dean a hand up. He was still unsteady on his feet, but refused any further help from Sam. They followed Gabriel down a branching corridor and through a large reinforced door. Once outside he led them across a small plaza to a large warehouse. Inside was the Impala and all of their gear, ready to go.

"I'm driving," Dean said.

"Like hell you are. You can barely walk." Sam had the keys already and didn't plan on handing them over until he knew Dean was steady enough to handle it.

Gabriel ignored their bickering and raised a hand, sending them back to the rural highway in Iowa that he hd taken them from. He closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the quiet, but he knew that it wouldn't last long.


	14. Castiel the Party Crasher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears that Dean isn't the only whiny man-baby around.

Sam eventually pushed Dean into the passenger side of the car and closed it. Dean tried to glare, but it was too much work and he still felt like crap. He rested his head against the window and sighed. "So where to?"

"Let's just go back home." He could still remember how strong he had felt when he was wielding the First Blade. It seemed so easy when he had it, smite the enemy. He had all the power in the world, and as drunk as he could remember feeling on it, he knew exactly how dangerous it could be. Humans weren't meant to have that sort of power.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, snapping him out of his reverie.

"What?" he yelled back, louder than he probably should have.

There was a second of silence. "Your phone," Sam said.

"What about it?"

"You just missed a call. Are you okay?" Sam fished his on phone, which was now ringing, out of his pocket. He glanced at the screen, then handed it over to Dean. "It's Cas."

"Yeah," Dean answered the phone. "Yeah, I was half asleep and missed it...no, we're...no, we...Cas..." Dean was losing what little patience he had left without being able to get a word in edgewise. "Cas!" he yelled sharply. "Look, we're fine. I'm fine. Sam's fine. The damn car is fine. I'm just tired, okay? So if you don't mind, I'm going to go to sleep while Sam drives us back across the country. I'll call you later." Without waiting for a response he hung up the phone and tossed it angrily back into Sam's lap. "I don't want to deal with anyone until I've had a shower, a hot meal, a cold beer, and a night sleeping in an actual bed. Don't ask me if I'm fine or how I'm doing, it's stupid questions."

Sam nodded, sticking his phone back into his pocket. He knew he had just been stuck with running interference with Cas, but it was still a lot easier than dealing with a pissy Dean.

"Good," Dean said, leaning the seat back slightly so he could pretend to be asleep and ignore the rest of the world. He didn't care if Sam could tell whether or not he was actually asleep as long as he was left alone.

Sam drove through the afternoon, trying to stick mostly to the interstate. He knew Dean didn't prefer them, but it was the fastest way to get back to Kansas. He didn't want to be stuck in the car with Dean's attitude any longer than he had to be. At least once they got back to the bunker he could make a list and have an excuse to get out and go shopping, he knew they were low on foodstuffs.

Somewhere mid-Nebraska his phone rang again. Dean had been sleeping off and on for the past three and a half hours and his phone had been ringing off and on for that whole time, but he never moved. He glanced at the screen before answering it. "Hey Cas, what's up?"

"Sam, where is your brother? He's not answering his phone."

"He's sleeping. We're in the car. Why, what's going on?"

"Abaddon is dead. She was killed in Wyoming today. Where are you?"

"Um, in Nebraska. On our way home. We were kinda there for that." He knew that he was getting into dangerous territory discussing this over the phone with Castiel, but he had done the math earlier. If they had left the warehouse in Wyoming where Crowley had his hideaway and they had killed Abaddon, they would now be driving the other way through Nebraska on the same timeframe to get home. "We should be there in a few hours, but I know Dean's pretty beat. Want to just meet up tomorrow morning?" There was silence on the other end of the line. "Cas, you still there?"

"Sam, are you alone right now?" Castiel sounded worried.

"No, I have Dean with me and about five other cars that I can see going my direction on the highway. Why?" He knew exactly what Cas was getting at, but playing stupid at this point was the easiest thing. "Look, can all of this wait? I'm trying to drive and the wind is getting pretty bad. I've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow." He hung up and turned his phone on silent, not really wanting to deal with Cas until he had Dean to back him up on things, and that wasn't likely to happen until tomorrow at the earliest.

"Dude, did you just lie to Cas?"

Maybe Dean wasn't quite so asleep as he had thought. "Only about the wind." At that point, a gust of wind hit the car broadside and Sam had to grip the wheel to keep in his own lane. "No."

"Dude, you told him we were on our way home from killing Abaddon!" Dean sounded angry.

"No, I told him we were in Nebraska on our way home and that we were there for killing Abaddon. If he wants to think that I'm driving home from there, it's not my fault." He held the wheel tightly as another gust of wind blasted them. "Besides, what did you want me to do, tell him the whole truth? 'Yeah, Cas, we were there, but then Gabriel took us back to his secret base in Greenland. We had to rest there because he did something to Dean that knocked him for a loop, but then he dropped us back in Iowa, we're on our way home now.' That would have gone over real well, I'm sure."

Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah, you're probably right." He looked out the window, then at the clock on the dashboard. "How long as it been since we ate anything?"

"Um, a while? It was before we left Iowa the first time, so last night, probably?" Had it only been last night that they last saw Castiel? It would explain his frequent calls. Dean had refused to let him renew the sigils on his ribs, and then Cas had figured out they were with Gabriel. Sam knew he was bound to be worried, but he also knew that Castiel had a war to plan, and distractions from that would be very bad for everyone involved. He pulled off on the next exit and headed straight for the truck stop. It wasn't good food, but it was food, and since Dean had mentioned it, he realized how hungry he was.

It was mid afternoon and the truck stop was fairly slow. As they walked in, there was a flutter of air behind them. Sam rolled his eyes and could tell that Dean was actively trying not to turn around and snap at Castiel. "Table for three?" the perky hostess asked. She either didn't notice or ignored the tightness in Sam's smile as he nodded. "Follow me then."

They were led to a table near the back. "Here you go, Sheila will be with you shortly."

Dean took a seat beside Sam, both of them staring at Castiel. "What the hell, Cas?" Dean started. "We can't reach you for days when we actually need you, and now you can't leave us alone for more than what, five hours at a time? I'm starting to feel like a stalking victim here."

Castiel frowned at him. "That is not my intention, Dean. I'm trying to protect you. Both of you."

"Look, we know exactly what we're caught up in, okay?" Sam said. "We've been through this all before. You and your family? Messed up and dangerous, we get it, but you've got other things to deal with than us right now. Go back, do your thing, and once this is all over with and you can go home again, we'll have a nice sit down chat, okay?" He was leaning in towards Cas and talking as quietly as he could. Even if somebody were to walk by, they would be hard pressed to listen in to the conversation.

"You are in more danger than you think. Word has it that Meta-"

"Look, I've had it!" Dean yelled, standing up. Everyone in the restaurant looked over at him. "I'm tired of you coming back and trying to tell us how to do things, okay? It's bullshit. I'm done with this crap. Come on, Sammy, let's go home." He strode towards the door, and Sam got up and followed him without looking back at Castiel. When he got to the car, he stood beside the driver's side, and Sam tossed him they keys as he crossed to the passenger side door. "What the hell is he thinking?" Dean said as he sped out of the parking lot. "Didn't you tell him to wait until we were back at the bunker?"

Sam choked back a laugh. "You think he actually listens to me?"

"I do," came a voice from the back seat. Sam spun around and Dean reached up to readjust the mirror to see Castiel sitting there. "Always."

"Jesus Christ, Cas!" Dean shouted. "Can't you just listen to us and leave us the hell alone? You're worse than a kid!"

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted. "Your track record is worse than mine for doing as you're told. And you are in more danger than you think. Metatron is furious, many of his angels were lost in the battle against the demons. He thinks I had something to do with it."

"So what do you want us to do, go find him and admit the truth? Tell him all of the master plan so he knows what's coming? Sorry, that's not going to happen." Sam was barely ready to face Castiel with the truth, there was no way after what Gadreel had done in his body that he was willing to face Metatron until it was time to kill him.

"No, you need to stay as far from him as possible," Castiel replied. "I had to come warn you ahead of time, I cannot meet you at your bunker."

"What happened to it?" Dean was instantly concerned.

"I had some angels cover it with angelic warding. No angels are able to get inside now. We also added some extra warding against demons, and some against Metatron specifically. It's for your protection." 

Dean scoffed. "Cas, you and I need to have a nice long talk about personal boundaries. You keep crashing right through mine." He floored the gas and sped down the highway. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to have a damn meal in peace. It's bad enough not knowing if any stranger on the street is an angel, now I have to worry about which damn faction they're part of. So leave me out of all of this, go back to your angels and lead them."

There was a puff of air and the back seat was empty once again. "I'm glad we got that taken care of," Sam said. "Maybe we should just stop at the grocery store. It's only about an hour until we're home. I'll make us something."

"Yeah, sounds good." He slipped in a cassette and they cruised down the highway, lost in their own thoughts.


	15. Gabriel Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funny, nobody even really knew he was gone.

Balthazar was tired. It was a tired beyond the bone-weariness of a human, this was an exhaustion that bled down into the soul. She had been fighting so hard just to keep ahead of her vessel, and then she had been put in charge of monitoring Crowley until the operation. They had just figured a viable escape scenario and he had been set free, but Balthazar just wanted to go find a small hole and curl up in it. She wanted to shed her vessel and simply exist again, not bound to Earth and worn down by rebuilding the broken home around her. If it was possible, she wanted to be apart from this conflict, not dependent on Gabriel for enough energy to make it through week to week. "Is that why this vessel was chosen specifically for me?" she asked the air around her. "You wanted to force me to stay close to Gabriel in the midst of all of this?"

Jesus was too busy to answer. Even if he did have the time, he wasn't about to give away any of his reasoning. It was part of the larger plan, she was sure. Though she was starting to doubt if her large part in it was due to how much she was trusted, or to how little.

Gabriel was again nowhere to be found after sending the Winchesters away. He had disappeared shortly afterwards and hadn't been responding to any request for contact. Even Jesus was silent on the issue of where Gabriel was. It was wearing down on everyone. Balthazar tried to keep up a good face, but the rest of the angels around her could see right through it. It had been nearly three days since killing Abaddon and nobody knew what the next step in the plan was. They knew it was going to have something to do with drawing Metatron out to destroy him, but Gabriel was the general, he was in charge of all of the planning. Without him, there were no ideas, no creativity in the ranks.

Balthazar could have come up with a plan on her own, had she not been fighting her body and dissension in the ranks. The Principalities themselves were eager for outright war against the surviving angels, while those who had been turned in death were working themselves into a near frenzy, wondering which of their brothers and sisters they were going to have to kill and trying to find any way out of it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Gabriel had arrived behind her and could sense the tension.

"Am I so cheap to you?" Balthazar wanted to snap at Gabriel, wanted to demand where he had been, why he had disappeared, but it all seemed futile at this point. It didn't matter why or where, the important thing was that he was back now. "What are the plans for drawing out Metatron?"

"No clue yet. Still working on that. I've been busy the past few days. Traveling the world, checking on old alliances, that sort of thing. The bad news is that not too many of my old contacts are willing to fight for us. The good news, though, is that they're not willing to fight for Metatron either. I do have a few small gods on my side, ones who owed me particularly large favors, but it's better than nothing." He stepped around to face Balthazar and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?"

"You didn't turn to greet me, and you still won't look me in the eyes. You're hunched over and upset. It's painfully obvious to anyone who has eyes. Probably even people who don't have eyes, provided they have ears and can hear your voice." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Spill it, sister. What's up?"

Balthazar slowly moved her shoulder out from under Gabriel's hand. "You disappear for days, leave me no instructions on how to begin planning the battle, no word to anyone about whether or not I am actually in charge in your absence. Do you want to possibly retract your question now, or shall I continue?"

"Okay, maybe I should have said something," Gabriel began, taking a step back. "I had limited time, though. Once word of Abaddon's defeat got out to the world at large, it would be too late for me to claim I had a hand in it. News had to come from me to these people. As it is, I already had to sweet talk them enough just to be granted an audience. Most of them think I'm a traitor or dead. Or a dead traitor. Look, the point is, I'm back. I'll be explicitly clear to everyone that you are the second in command, and anyone who wants to argue the point can face me in one-on-one combat."

"I hardly think that's necessary. A bit extreme. Flashy, even." She looked up at him. "Some might think you're showing off."

Gabriel grinned. "I can't say they'd be entirely incorrect. Now how are you doing? Holding yourself together well, I take it?"

"I can take care of myself, thanks." Any hint that Balthazar was warming up immediately left. Gabriel had disappeared on her for two days, not caring how well she was holding up. He had no business caring if it was only going to be a show of concern when it was convenient for him to be around.

"Okay, fine. Let me know if you need anything." He headed for the door. "Good job on the plan for Crowley, by the way. Inspired. Is he onboard with helping us out in our next battle if we need it?"

Balthazar followed Gabriel. "He said he'd try to, but no promises. A lot of Hell had turned over to Abaddon and I'm sure he's going to have quite the job cleaning up and getting everyone in line again. But he knows that anything he can do to harry them would be worthwhile."

Crowley, before he left, had promised his undying support in getting rid of Metatron. Of course there had been caveats, but most of them had been provisioned for in the contract he had signed. Balthazar had given him a week to take care of cleaning house in Hell before he had to be ready to help out the angels. One non-negotiable week. And if he wasn't ready by then, it was to be considered a breach of contract, specifically providing material support in the immediate short term to advance the cause of opening Heaven to all angelic entities.

"Besides," Balthazar continued. "He knows we're on a timeframe here. He'll be ready to help us within five days, at most. And he knows the sooner the better."

"Good, my help will be coming within three days. We'll have them for a week. If we had time we could spend eons in a war of attrition. Something tells me that would end up being a very bad idea. Besides which, and if you tell a single soul about this you will regret it, I have it from on high that Metatron has been seen back in heaven already."

Balthazar stopped in her tracks. "That's bad."

"Understatement much?" Gabriel looked back over his shoulder. "Come on, we've got a massive skirmish campaign to plan. I don't want any losses on our side, and I want them as injured and as beaten and bloodied as possible with the fewest number of casualties. Let's go piss off Daddy's little helper, shall we?"

With a few quick steps, Balthazar had caught up. "I thought that was you."

"Nah, more Michael's thing. He studied and learned, I just played with spare parts."


	16. Gabriel Calls His Pet Humans...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...who then call their pet Demon who is actually the King of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! I got caught up in a lot of crazy life stuff, but I should be back on track now for every Monday.

Castiel was worried. Waves and waves of demons had been coming after them, and after the humans, for four days. His strength was decimated. There were reports that Metatron's forces were suffering similar losses, as were each of the other groups of angels banding together. At this point he was considering going to several of the leaders of the other bands and asking to join forces for protection. Metatron by far had the most supporters drawn to his cause, his promise of a rebuilt Heaven, but they weren't yet a majority.

He sighed, looking over a report a subordinate had just given him. The worst part of these demon attacks wasn't how frequent or furious they were, it was how directed they were. The demons seemed to choose two or three angels at random and incapacitate them without actually killing them. It was completely abnormal behavior for them, something nobody had ever seen before. He knew they were under Crowley's command, any demons left free to travel on Earth would at this point be either fleeing from Hell or loyal enough that Crowley let them run loose.

"What is the status on those in the infirmary?" His new base had by necessity morphed into a large infirmary with the rest of the installation attached to it.

"No change, sir," the subordinate angel said. "We just don't have the strength of Grace to heal them all."

Castiel nodded and dismissed the angel with a wave. For the ninety-second time in three days he pulled out his phone and debated calling Dean and Sam. He could use the help, but he also didn't want to risk pulling them both in to this war. Something had to change, though. There was no other way. He dialed the phone and held it up, waiting, but the call went to voicemail. "Dean, it's me. Please call me. I have to speak to you, it's very important."

He repeated the process two other times, with the same result and an identical message. On the fourth number, there was an answer.

"Hello?"

"Sam," Castiel said. He was glad to have reached someone, even if it wasn't his first choice.

"Cas, what's up?"

"Is Dean there?"

"He's, uh, showering? I think?" Sam sounded unsure, hesitating.

"I need your help." It was difficult to admit that, especially so early in the conversation, but it was best to be completely upfront. "Both of you. Please."

"Sure, what's going on?" Sam leaned back in his seat and relaxed a bit.

"Demons. Lots of them. All over the world, attacking angels. Leaving them alive, but incapacitated. It's sapping all of our strength, and at this rate we won't be able to go up against Metatron."

There was silence on the other line for a moment, and then a slightly echoing silence. "Wait, you said demons were targeting angels?" Sam asked. "Going after them and _not_ killing them?"

"Yes. Not just my faction of angels, all of them. It's driving more angels toward Metatron, he keeps promising that soon he'll open Heaven up for his new order. He's able to recoup the losses of his followers, but the rest of us...unless something changes, we're going to be destroyed."

"Yeah, well, it's not just you that's going to be destroyed. Do you know how many people have died since Heaven shut down? A lot, and everyone that can't get in is stuck here. Ghosts are cropping up everywhere, and they're starting to turn violent. I mean, this is just the beginning of it."

"I...didn't realize that, I'm sorry," Castiel said. The influx of that many ghosts was going to have an destabilizing effect on the planet, and everything would turn to chaos. A sudden realization hit Castiel, and he had a brief respect for the forethought of Metatron's full plan. "You have to stay put. You and Dean. In the bunker."

"No, what? No. We need to help these people. Wherever we can. We can't just let everything get bad like this."

"Sam, you have to listen to me. I'm not certain, but I think this might be part of Metatron's plan. I know he favored Abaddon in the race for Hell, she's stronger and more likely to attempt to open the pit. Crowley, luckily, knows better."

"Wait, hold on," Sam interrupted. "Did you just say open the pit? As in Michael, Lucifer, pit of Hell?"

"Again, I'm not certain. But this could be his larger plan. Heaven is closed, earth is being terrorized by its own dead, and Hell is unleashed. He may not be an Archangel, but Metatron always had a certain flair about his plans. If this is what he is planning, you and Dean must stay safe. You cannot let Michael and Lucifer use you as their vessels." Castiel could hear a shuffling on the other end of the phone.

"What the hell did you just say?" Dean sounded like he was shouting from across the room. "Did they got loose?"

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said.

"Cas, d'you mind explaining?" Dean said, coming closer to the phone. He pulled his shirt over his head and took a seat next to Sam at the table.

"I was telling Sam that you two have to stay in your bunker. I'm not certain, but it may be Metatron's plan to bring about the apocalypse. One bigger than before, destroying most of the angels in addition to Hell and the earth."

"And get this," Sam said. "Demons are going after angels. Targeting them specifically and attacking them, but not killing them."

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"We don't know. Angels who would be resistant to Metatron are flocking to his side and his offer of protection and a new place in the new Heaven. We have scores of angels languishing, unable to heal themselves or their vessels, but not injured badly enough to die. It's torture for them, and we don't know why it's happening."

"Look, Cas, I get that you want to keep us safe in all of this, okay? I do. But we can't just hide out in the bunker. That's not who we are. We've got to get out there and help people." Dean sounded resigned. "Innocent people are being hurt and killed by angry spirits because they're not being given any rest. I can't sit still and let that happen."

"Very well," Cas said, after a long pause. "But be careful. Metatron isn't going to be happy with either of you right now. He's everywhere. Don't trust any angel you meet."

"Well, trust me, that's not going to be an issue."

"Yeah," Sam added, "there are days we barely trust the angels we already know."

Another angel walked into the room and stood just inside the doorway, waiting on Castiel. "I have to go. Be careful."

"You too," Dean said, and hung up the phone.

Sam looked at Dean. "I know Gabriel told us not to tell him anything, but I think he needs to know this."

"Well he's not exactly going to answer his phone, and we can't ask him to come visit us since Cas angel-proofed the place. What do you suggest, buy tickets to Greenland and rent a dogsled?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, do you have any better ideas?"

Dean had a few, but praying was kind of a one-way street, and this was definitely something that needed a back-and-forth. He took his own cell phone out of a pocket and dialed a number.

"Who are you calling?" Sam asked. Dean waved him off, and headed for the main door to the bunker.

"Yeah, meet me outside. I'm heading out now." He hung up the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. "You coming?" he asked over his shoulder. "I've got a better idea."

Sam stood up and hurried to catch up with Dean. By the time they got outside, Crowley was waiting for them, lounging against the side of the building. "Hello, boys," he said with a grin. "Miss me?"

"What the crap is going on with the angels?" Dean said, leaning in close over Crowley.

"Oh, dear, there's just so much going on with them these days, what with them being underfoot everywhere. You'll have to jog my memory a bit more than that."

"Demons," Sam said, stepping up just as close and looming over him. "Hunting angels. Targeting them. Attacking them, but not killing them."

"Ah, yes, that," he said brightly. "I believe it's contractually called lending material support. Honestly, though, it's a drag. With all the internal restructuring I already have to do, I also have to rein in all of my people and tell them to not actually kill. Do you have any idea how difficult that is? Getting them to understand that? Devilishly difficult, I assure you."

Dean leaned in even closer and grabbed Crowley's lapels. "We need to talk to Gabriel. You need to get us in contact. Set up a meeting near here, soon, and call us." He let go roughly and walked off.

"What's got squirrel in such a bad mood?" Crowley asked Sam.

"Putting up with crap from all sides, being used and manipulated, not being told the whole story on anything, and having to leave you alive, for starters." He leaned down to get right in Crowley's face. "Get us Gabriel and get him quickly." He turned and followed Dean back into the relative safety of the bunker.


	17. Crowley Calls His Pet Principality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...Who lowers himself to the level of humans. Utterly distasteful. And not even fun, this time.

"What do you want?" Gabriel yelled, not even turning around. Crowley had showed up unexpectedly and been escorted in after an appropriate hour-long wait, but Gabriel hadn't even turned to face the door. He was working at a large table, moving small figurines around in a random pattern.

"The Winchesters have been asking about you. And about me and my demons."

There was a long pause and Gabriel turned around slowly. "And what did you tell them?"

"Material support, contractual obligations, and how difficult it all was." He waited for a response, but none came. "They want to see you."

"They know how to reach me," Gabriel responded. He knew Dean had prayed to Castiel on a semi-regular basis, and figured he was a smart enough boy to figure it out again.

"You'd never be able to respond when they called. Their entire bunker is covered in warding and runes to keep everything out. I'd be surprised if a slightly undead mouse could make it past there. I'm supposed to call them with a time and place to meet you, since you trust the phones so little." He stood, waiting patiently. All he got was a glare in response. "Look, I don't want to be at anyone's beck and call, but if I don't do what they ask, they'll do something worse than calling me and do some sort of summoning ritual."

Gabriel sighed. "Fine." He stepped forward and grabbed the demon's hand, then flew them immediately to the outside of the Winchester's bunker. "Call them," he demanded, turning to look at the building. As Crowley drew his phone, Gabriel let out a low whistle. "Wow, that is some piece of work right there. Wonder how long it took Cas and his lackeys to get that all done?"

"They're on their way up, I'm on my way down," Crowley said before disappearing.

It was another fifteen minutes before Sam and Dean made it outside, and Gabriel was more than a bit annoyed. "You called?"

"Oh, hey," Sam said. "Yeah, uh, that thing that you're having Crowley do? With the demons?"

"It's backfiring," Dean said.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at them.

"Angels are flocking over to Metatron's side, the ones who are still well enough to get around. All you're doing is hurting the resistance."

"Please, Dean, tell me more."

"Look, Cas and the half-dead angels he's taking care of are nearly defenseless. If Metatron tries something against them, they're dead. He said there's other resistance groups that have the exact same problem. Once they're weak enough, Metatron's going to come after them and destroy everything!"

Gabriel smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good."

"Good?" Sam exploded. "Please tell me exactly how that's good! Angels, the ones you're trying to reopen Heaven for, are going to die!"

"Sit down, boys, and let Uncle Gabe explain a thing or two to you." He flicked his hand, and they were shoved back into ornate chairs that had appeared out of nowhere. "First of all, you don't need to worry about the missing third of your little trio. He's already been kicked out of our club a few times, remember? You can't kill him. Or rather you can kill him. Repeatedly. It won't stick. He's not going anywhere."

"That's not the point," Dean interrupted.

"Hush," Gabriel said, holding up a finger. Dean's mouth kept moving, but he was silenced. "Let me finish, then you can argue all you want." Dean stilled and glared at him. "Good. So I've got forces harrying the angels, incapacitating them as much as possible. Yes. And so what if they flock to Metatron? He thinks the other angels are behind it and trying to attack each other. The other factions think Metatron's made some deal with Crowley. Neither side knows we exist. The other factions are just about ready to band together. They've got a few fortified bases between them and can protect their injured. Metatron doesn't really have that, he relies on strength of numbers to keep his injured protected. So when the other factions band together and he sends his masses out to destroy them, he has to leave enough behind to protect his injured. Or kill them, and risk losing all of the followers he's gained. That's when he's weakest, and that's when the Principalities will swarm in and overtake him, and then we'll call you boys in to finish the job and open Heaven. We'll also have groups to intervene and keep the other angels from killing each other as much as possible." He stopped and smiled. "So you see, it's all part of the larger plan. Which, by the way, I need to be monitoring. So if there are no further questions?"

"So you planned all of this? Maiming angels?" Sam looked concerned.

"Have you ever coordinated a war? Not a little three-man campaign against unbeatable odds, but an actual planned out extended war with tens of thousands of troops at your disposal?" Neither of the Winchesters answered. "I didn't think so. Don't lecture me on tactics. Either they'll be healed when Heaven is opened and we're successful, or they'll be killed by Metatron's forces once we lose, which would have been their fate otherwise. Most of these angels I trained up as fledglings. They're my brothers and sisters. They are my family, and even though I'm dead to them, I would do nearly anything to keep them safe and alive."

"This is safe?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Safety is relative. And yes, this is safe. They're being cared for and protected. And if they do find out who planned this and did it to them, that's fine. I always was a bit of a bastard. Now look, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to leave. I've got a war to run. You're going to go do whatever it is you do. When the time comes, I will find you and get you. Until then, keep clear of Cas and his warnings, and don't get yourselves killed." With a flourish, Gabriel disappeared, and with him both of the chairs that Sam and Dean had been sitting on and they both fell to the ground hard.

"That went well," Dean said, standing up and brushing off his jeans. "We're making progress. At least we know what the plan is."

"Yeah, and what are we going to do with it?" Sam stayed on the ground, not bothering to stand up. They weren't in any hurry to get somewhere, for once, and his tailbone was sore where he had landed.

"We're gonna go tell Cas, that's what."

"You can't do that!" Sam cried, standing up. He was ready to stop Dean if it became necessary.

Dean took a step back from Sam. "Why the hell not? Cas is losing people, Sam! He's got a right to know what's going on!"

"I'm not even sure we have a valid right to know what's going on." He was quiet but determined not to let Dean tell Cas. "Look, Gabriel could have kept us in Greenland until it was time. He could have just not come here and told us his entire plan. He could have taken us with him."

"What, so you're gonna go start the Gabriel fan club or something? I mean, come on, he's basically attacking his own people!"

"My point is, he trusts us. And what he's doing? He's got damn good reasons for it all. I mean, who the hell are we to judge questionable methods to a good end? Besides, Cas would be planning war and not stopping at maiming, if he had an army. Metatron hasn't hesitated to kill for a second. Neither of them care about the means or the cost, it's all about the end result." He could see the hesitation in Dean. "Look, I'm not saying I like Gabriel's plan. I don't, it sucks for everyone involved, but it's the best option we've got."

Sam wasn't even sure that Cas wouldn't attempt to lead some sort of delegation or force to attempt to meet with the Principalities, which would probably lead Metatron right to them unwittingly. Which would again be a very large problem.

"Look, I gotta tell him something." Dean sounded mostly defeated.

"No, Dean. Gabriel told us to stay out of it entirely, Cas told us not to leave the bunker and to keep out of things. Maybe, just this once, we should listen to them. I mean, that seems to be the one thing they agree on, that we keep out of their plans until we're called in."

Dean sighed and headed inside the bunker. "I'm not okay with all of this, for the record."

"I'm not either," Sam agreed. "But we gotta do what we gotta do to end this all as soon as possible. And if that means staying put and playing by angel's rules, then we suck it up and do as we're told." _For once,_ he added mentally.


	18. Cas Breaks ALL The Barriers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean goes off the rail and Sam almost dies from it. So what else is new?

It was a quiet two days in the bunker. Sam and Dean ignored the world around them, the angry ghosts terrorizing the places they used to live, the demons and other dark forces harrying the angels at every turn, and the uncountable scores of angels left to languish.

It was 2 in the morning when a loud banging came from the front door. Dean was on his feet in an instant, pulling his shoes on and grabbing his gun. Sam joined him in the hallway, also armed, and they rushed to the door. Castiel was standing outside, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He collapsed into Dean's arms, past the threshold of the door, and Dean took one of Cas's arms over his shoulders and dragged him inside along the hallway.

Sam checked the perimeter, making sure that there was nothing else out there, and closed the door securely. He wasn't sure how Cas managed to get past the angel warding he had his people put up, but he looked bad. He caught up to them and took Cas's other arm, helping him stay upright.

They took him into the main room and set him carefully on a chair. Dean squatted in front of him, giving him a quick once-over to make sure there weren't any obvious injuries that needed tending to. "Cas, man, you with us?" Castiel's head was lolling forward limply. His eyes were open but unfocused and he was struggling to breathe. "Alright, hang in there, okay?" Sam had run off to get the first-aid kit in case there was something they were able to do to help him.

"Dean," Castiel whispered hoarsely.

"I'm right here, Cas." Dean grabbed Cas's face with his hands and held it still, trying to get him to focus his eyes. "Right here. C'mon, stay with me. What happened?"

"Crowley," Cas managed to croak.

"What did he do?" Sam asked, coming back with the bag of supplies. He wasn't sure how much use they would be in this situation, but it never hurt to be prepared.

"Only what I was told to do," Crowley replied from behind Dean. He was standing smugly. "It appears to have worked."

Sam stepped around Dean and pulled his gun on Crowley. "You try anything and I swear I will knock your ass down and hold you in place while Dean kills you slowly.

Castiel fell unconscious in the chair and slumped forward over Dean. Dean muttered a soft curse and lowered Castiel to the floor, laying him down gently. He stood up and strode forward to Crowley, but Sam's outstretched hand stopped him.

"Oh, well, that's gratitude for you," Crowley sneered. "Threats. Displays of power. Such a shame you boys are spoken for, I'd love to have you by my side for eternity."

"I'm going to ask you once, you son of a bitch, and you better hope I like the answer," Dean said, pushing forward against Sam's arm. "What the hell did you do to him?"

Crowley leaned forward. "What I was told to do. Get him out of the picture for his own safety, and assure that the protection on this building was gone so it was open to visitors again." He straightened and smiled. "And of course, I chose to kill two birds with one stone. Bit of artwork behind it, to be sure."

Dean shoved by Sam's arm and knocked Crowley onto the floor. He straddled him and began punching, channeling all of his anger and frustration into the easiest available target.

"Dean, no!" Sam yelled, and dropped his gun, trying to grapple with his brother to hold him back, but Dean reached back and struck at him to keep him away, hitting him squarely in the throat. Sam fell solidly to the floor, gasping and wheezing for air. He could still see Dean attacking Crowley, but within a few seconds there were spots in his vision, and it was darkening around the edges.

"Enough!" yelled a reverberating voice. Gabriel stepped in through the doorway, eyes flashing. Dean flew across the room and was pinned invisibly to a wall, Crowley was pinned to the opposite wall. Gabriel rushed over to Sam's side and knelt beside him. "Let me help you," he said quietly, waiting only for Sam to nod weakly before putting a hand on his head and healing his throat. "Better?" Sam gasped for air and nodded. Gabriel pulled him up to his feet and checked him over before handing him his gun. "Good." He looked at Crowley, who was glaring murderously at Dean. He looked at Dean, who was still straining of the invisible binding. "Are you two going to behave if I let you down?"

"I do as I'm told," Crowley said.

"I'm gonna kill him," Dean growled. Sam walked over to stand in front of Dean, blocking his view of Crowley. "You'd better get out of my way, Sam."

"C'mon, Dean," Sam said. "Let it go." His throat still hurt, healing it hadn't taken the initial pain from the punch away, and he rubbed it absently. "Cas is gonna be fine. I'll be okay. Just...chill, alright?"

"Sammy, I love you, but you'd better not try to stop me. I'm gonna kill that asshole." There was such pure hatred in Dean's eyes and it was starting to worry Sam. He had to get Dean's attention and could still feel the swelling and bruising under his hand on his throat. It was a low blow, but something had to be done.

Sam grabbed Dean's head and forced him to lock eyes. "Look at me. At what you did to me." He raised his voice, trying to break through to his brother. "You damn near killed me, Dean! If Gabriel hadn't shown up, you would have."

"Get the hell off me!" Dean yelled, thrashing as much as he could. He didn't seem to acknowledge Sam's presence at all, he had completely snapped into an uncontrollable rage.

"Fine, you know what? I'm done," Sam screamed back, holding his hands up and backing away. "To hell with you, Dean."

"Oh, don't I just wish?" Crowley said, still pinned across the room.

"You, shut the hell up too," Sam said angrily. He went to where Gabriel was kneeling beside Castiel. "Is he okay?"

"He should be waking up soon. Help me get him into the chair here," Gabriel said, lifting Castiel. "It would probably be better if you explained to him why Dean was pinned against the wall when he wakes up. He probably won't listen to me."

Sam nodded, adjusting Castiel's body so he wasn't about to fall. "Yeah, I think I've got some pretty compelling evidence," he said, rubbing his throat again.

Castiel's eyes fluttered open, and he lifted his head to look around. There was palpable fear when he saw Gabriel standing in front of him. "No...please," he muttered, trying to curl in on himself. Gabriel took several steps back and Sam moved in to steady Cas.

"It's okay, Cas. I promise. Look at me," Sam said gently, trying to calm him. He'd never seen Cas this terrified before, he was like a cornered animal, shaking in fear. He did the first thing that came to mind and wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him in close, but Cas struggled against him.

"Where's Dean?" Cas asked, eyes wildly searching the room. Dean was silenced, hanging on the wall behind him, out of his field of view, but he was fighting as hard as he could to get free.

Sam shook his head a bit. "He's in a bit of a frenzy right now. Tried to kill Crowley, almost killed me." He gestured to his throat, which was already bruised. "It happened before Gabriel even got here. He's the one who saved me, then he made sure Dean was safe and wasn't going to hurt himself."

Cas sat up in his chair and tried to look around, but Gabriel stepped forward to block his view of Dean. "Your grace," he said, quietly enough that Crowley wouldn't be able to hear. "It's nearly gone. Let me help you, please." When Castiel flinched away from him again, hurt flashed across his eyes. "I swear to you, Castiel, you're in no danger right now. You're in the safest place possible."

Castiel's eyes widened with sudden realization, then narrowed. "You sent Crowley after me. You sent those demons out to kill all those angels. And the daevas? Were you behind them as well?"

"How many have died in their attacks, Castiel? Worldwide, out of any faction, how many deaths?" Gabriel wanted to make sure his point came across before he answered.

"Was it you?" Cas asked deliberately.

"How many deaths from that, Cas? And how many deaths from the infighting among angels stuck here on Earth trying to get home?" He stepped in closer. "You're dying. Let me help you. You're going to burn yourself out. The rest of the angels deserve someone who can actually lead them once Metatron is gone. You're not going to make it at this rate." He reached out a hand, palm up. "Please. I'm not a danger, you know that."

Castiel nervously reached out his hand and took Gabriel's. He didn't trust his brother not to kill him outright, or at least cause worse harm, but Gabriel was right. He was dying, his stolen grace was burning out inside of him. He had spent most of it burning the sigils from the bunker so he would have access to the safety of Dean and Sam inside. When their hands met, Castiel felt power flowing from Gabriel into himself. It was just a trickle of what he was used to, but it was more than he had been able to access at once since becoming human. He took a deep breath, healing all the injuries that had been caused. It took conscious effort not to reflexively flex his wings as they were healed as well. He could feel Gabriel pull his hand back, and the faucet of warmth was removed, but there was still enough within him. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome." Gabriel smiled. "Now, do you at least trust me a bit?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I trust you a bit." He looked back to Sam and reached out a hand to his throat. "May I?"

Sam nodded, swallowing. He leaned his head back and let Castiel heal him completely. "Thanks," he said once it was done. "Now do you think we can try to get Dean to not try that again?"

"Where is he?" Castiel asked, standing up. He turned and saw Dean pinned to the wall by Gabriel's will, still struggling tirelessly to free himself. His mouth was moving in what Castiel could tell were some very colorful obscenities. "Dean!" Castiel shouted, rushing over to him. When he got closer, he could see Dean's eyes and the unfocused rage. He reached out a hand and placed it on Dean's face. He could feel the anger and hatred running through Dean's veins.

"It came back quicker than I thought," Gabriel said, coming to stand beside Castiel. "I came to get him, we're nearly ready to take down Metatron, but I had no idea that even standing outside the door with the First Blade would set him off this badly. When this is all over, and hopefully that's very soon, I'm going to make sure it's hidden away in a nice safe place where nobody will ever be able to find it again. Then I'll do everything I can to help him."

Castiel frowned, Dean still hadn't stopped his struggling or seemed to recognize him. Cas moved his hand to Dean's forehead and touched it, knocking him unconscious instantly. He was still held in place against the wall. "I'm coming with you," he said, looking at Gabriel.

"No, baby brother, you're not."

"I will not be left behind. Not after all Metatron has done to me. I deserve this!" Castiel stepped from Dean towards Gabriel. "You will not take Dean without me."

Sam stepped up and put a hand on Cas's shoulder. "Hey, maybe you should hang back. Look, you didn't trust Gabriel until now. If you go out there and stand alongside the angel who sent the demons against you all, do you really think any of them will trust you?"

Cas turned to Sam. "I will not let Dean be used like this!"

Gabriel put an arm around Castiel's shoulder. "He knew what he was getting into, brother. And Sam is right. You can't be seen with me. This was part of my plan, keep you safe so you can run things. Dean's going to need you here when he comes back. Cas, you've been a part of this plan for a long time. Take that little bit of trust you have in me and act on it."

"While this is, I'm sure, a Hallmark moment, I believe there's a timeframe to be maintained, yes?" Crowley said from his position across the room.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and stepped back from Cas. "Can you two manage him until we get back?"

Sam smiled. "I can honestly say it would be my pleasure." He went and took one of Crowley's arms, waiting for Cas to come take the other. Once they had him securely, Gabriel let him loose from the wall.

"This wasn't in the bloody plan!" Crowley screamed.

"Oh yes it was," Gabriel said. "It absolutely was. You're to stay far away from the final battle. The location is to be kept from you, and you're not to attempt to lead any demons there. You agreed to it. This is just the insurance policy."

"If you'll come this way, Your Highness," Sam said, leading him back towards the dungeon he had been imprisoned in before.

Gabriel guided Dean to the floor and knelt beside him. "Wake up," he said, hand already over Dean's chest to restrain him.

Dean was much calmer after being unconscious. He could feel the pull of the First Blade, its power calling to him. "What happened?" He asked, looking directly at Gabriel.

"I showed up at a very bad time. Cas and Sam are fine, Crowley is fine, and I can get you up to speed on the rest of the details later. Right now, we have a war to win, and we'll need to be there soon." Gabriel moved his hand and helped Dean to his feet. "You ready?"

Dean nodded. "Let's get the bastard."


	19. The Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of this war, at least. In which Dean goes a little bit crazier than normal.

Balthazar was pleased. Reports were coming in from all sectors that the forces of Metatron were being easily contained and neutralized, and only small numbers were needed to actually prevent their escape. It meant more were available for the imminent assault on Metatron himself. She turned to survey the growing number of angels appearing in the warehouse.

_Report,_ came Gabriel's voice in her head.

_Success from he first twelve squadrons. It's only taking eighty percent of our projections to maintain the locations. We will be ready to regroup for Phase Two in two minutes._

"Wonderful," Gabriel said from behind her. "We're here, Cas and Crowley are being taken care of." More angels kept appearing around them and Dean was starting to look uncomfortable. "Having second thoughts?" Gabriel asked him quietly.

"No, I just don't like angels. Being in a room with this many at once is kinda not my idea of a fun time, is all." He frowned and shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem soon, they can all go home and leave me the hell alone."

Balthazar raised one hand and the room fell silent. "We go in thirty seconds. Remember the rules and remember your position. Today, we reclaim Heaven!"

"For Heaven!" all of the assembled angels screamed, nearly in unison.

As Balthazar dropped her hand, angels began disappearing from the room. It was nearly emptied within a matter of seconds, and he felt Gabriel grip him tightly and fly. When he opened his eyes again, it was dim. There were the sounds of a skirmish nearby, but they were in what looked to be an old fashioned library in some sort of mansion or castle. There was a fire burning in the fireplace and two angels seated before it their backs to the room. Dean felt Gabriel step back from his side into the shadows.

"Ah, Castiel, glad to see you got enough stolen Grace to heal your wings," Metatron said.

"Try again, asshole," Dean said.

Metatron turned around, surprised. Beside him Gadreel mirrored his action. "Dean Winchester, what a pleasant surprise. But how did you make it past the guards?"

"That would be me," Gabriel said, remaining in the shadowy corner.

"Gabriel!" Metatron exclaimed. "Oh, I'm sorry. You see, I only wrote you in for that one scene. You weren't supposed to actually stick around."

"Metatron, what is this?" Gadreel asked. "Gabriel is dead, that cannot be him."

"Oh, but it is me. In the flesh. And boy, do you have no idea what powers you're mucking about with, writing your little stories," Gabriel replied, stepping forward. "My army is bigger than yours. We've incapacitated all of your ground forces. The perimeter is secured. Warding is in place, you're not going anywhere. You have two choices at this point."

"Oh? What army did you get? My angels are loyal to me, I'm the only one who can take them back home. Besides which, you're only a fragment that I wrote into being." Metatron was smiling smugly though Gadreel was beginning to look unsure.

Gabriel took another step forward. The lights in the room flickered and shadows of sleek wings appeared on the wall behind him. "Look at me!" He shouted. "Do I look like a fragment?" He held up a hand and flicked his wrist, and Gadreel went flying across the room at sudden speed, landing in a crushed heap against the wall. He could see the fear growing in Metatron's eyes. "Look at me, asshole. Do I look imaginary to you?"

"But how...? You were dead! I wrote you into being with Castiel!" Metatron stood now, and began backing up.

Gabriel gave a predatory grin. "Oh, and wasn't that brilliant? All I had to do was play along for your little fantasy, and that made it so much easier to run things right under your nose. Anyone who thought they saw me could have run into that fragment you thought you made." He kept advancing, backing Metatron into a corner. "We destroyed Abaddon and reformed hell by contract, diminished your enemies without actually killing a single one of them, and brought you more forces than you have brains to command."

Metatron's jaw dropped in shock. "Excuse me!" He started.

"No," Dean said. "There is no excuse for you. You tricked Cas into thinking he's doing something good and betrayed him, and all of the angels. You killed them, and led them to kill each other. You had Kevin killed!" He joined Gabriel advancing on Metatron, backing him into a corner. "I can't wait to see the look on your face when I kill you."

"You will not!" Gadreel roared and launched himself across the room at Dean.

A petite woman appeared in his way, grabbing him from midair and tackling him to the floor. "Who's going to stop him? You?"

"Unhand me!" Gadreel screamed. "Who are you?"

Balthazar smirked and raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't recognize me? I'm hurt. All the quality time we had together before you went and got yourself caught being stupid." She waited for recognition, but there was none. "It's Balthazar, you idiot!"

Metatron's eyes opened wider. "But you're dead!" He shouted.

"Well, yes, after a fashion," Gabriel said. "The only problem is the inherent contradiction in killing a creature that, being immortal, can't actually die. Luckily there was another brother important enough to have his own club, and he really does let anybody in."

"Come on, Metatron," Dean taunted. "You're supposed to be a smart guy. You know your family. What branch didn't you plan for at all?"

"No," Metatron said, trying to back up further, but trapped in the corner. "No, you can't be. You don't really exist!"

"See how little he thinks of us, Gadreel? We didn't even factor in to his plans." Balthazar sat atop him, bearing down just enough to keep him pinned. "I'm hurt, really. I mean, we are now the single largest choir in existence. Then again, out of sight, out of mind."

"Principalities?" Gadreel nearly choked on the word. "Here? You?"

"Well, yeah," Gabriel said. "I thought we just kind of spelled that out for you. Which, oh by the way, means it's time to kill you. Leaders first."

"You can't kill me," Metatron said, staring at Gabriel. "I'm outside of the choirs. You have no power over me."

"Oh, wow, you're right, I didn't think of that at all!" He pulled the First Blade from the inside of his jacket. "I have this."

Dean rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, exposing the Mark of Cain. "And I have this. Any last words?" He asked, grabbing the blade and shoving it straight through Metatron's throat. He pulled it out and stabbed him in the chest, to make sure the job was done right. Then in the stomach, because it was there and deserved to be stabbed. The skull was next, because of course if you wanted to make sure something was good and truly dead, you cut off its head.

Gabriel grabbed the bone from Dean's hand and tossed it back to Balthazar. Gadreel cowered under her. "Please, spare me! I was only trying to return home!"

"Oh shut up," Balthazar said, standing up. "I don't have the Mark, I couldn't kill you with this if I wanted to. But by all means, go home. The door should be opening any minute now."

Dean was still punching the lifeless corpse of Metatron when Gabriel grabbed him and took him somewhere else. He was being restrained, and it didn't seem to matter how hard he fought, he couldn't break free. He had to break free, though, it was something past primal instinct that was telling him to fight, that to sit still would be worse than death.

It felt like a blade of ice straight into his solar plexus, and through his spine, and everywhere else in his body. He remembered the sensation, and it brought excruciating pain along with it. He screamed, pouring all of his pain into his voice. His body was exploding, piece by piece, he was being torn apart and picked clean, but the scavengers weren't even waiting until he was dead first.

He had no idea how much time had passed. The pain hadn't passed, it was still there, searing its way through his veins like shards of glass. The pain wouldn't let him pass out, but he didn't have the energy any more to keep screaming to the world how much pain he was in. The cries settled to moans, and then to whimpers. He flinched at every touch, no matter how gentle, but had little control of his body past that. It was being destroyed, fire burning him from inside and scorching every synapse in his brain. Once the fire had swept through his brain, he didn't remember anything else.


	20. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The domestic fluff we all needed after the battle.

Castiel was nervous. He had felt the doors of Heaven open and the flow of Grace and healing. Metatron was dead, he could go home. But that had been three hours ago, and there was still no sign of Gabriel or Dean. He had sat for most of that time unmoving, staring at Crowley from across a table. They had secured him in the same dungeon he had been held in before, and Sam had double checked the integrity of the demon circle, but hadn't wanted to leave him alone, just in case. Castiel had told him to go back to sleep, he would watch Crowley and wake him up when Dean came back.

"It must bother you," Crowley said suddenly. Castiel didn't respond, he just sat and stared. "Big brother goes off to get all the glory, and you're here babysitting the King of Hell and the little brother of the ultimate weapon." Castiel tilted his head slightly. "Come on, it doesn't rankle you in the least?"

Castiel tilted his head in the other direction and squinted his eyes a fraction. "No."

"Oh you angels, always acting so noble. You can't lie to me, that's my specialty."

"Stop talking," Castiel said, lifting his head slightly. He stood up and hurried out of the room, leaving a sputtering Crowley in his wake. He went to Sam's bedroom and touched him lightly on the shoulder, waking him up. "They're back," he said, heading out to the main room.

Gabriel was knelt down, cradling Dean's limp body. Castiel rushed over and knelt beside them. "It was bad," Gabriel said. "Worse than last time. I've taken out every trace I could. It took me a while to crawl through all the nooks and crannies, and I'm sure it was hell for him." He looked up at Castiel. "I did everything I could. The First Blade is going to be cleansed as well, and I'm going to make sure to keep it as far as possible from Dean. You've got to take care of him from here on out."

"What did you do to him?" Castiel asked, concerned.

Gabriel opened his mouth, but then put two fingers to Castiel's forehead. He didn't want to explain it out loud, not with Sam rushing into the room. "I've done all I can. My powers are a bit out of line with healing the sick."

Sam knelt down with them beside Dean. "Is he okay?"

"He was worse than last time. I did everything I could to him. I'm going to do my best to sever the connection from the other end, but that might affect him too. Trust me, dad willing he'll never see that thing again."

"Let's get him to a bed," Castiel said, helping Gabriel lift him as they stood. Sam went ahead of them and opened doors until they had laid Dean in his room. Sam immediately went to work removing Dean's shoes and making him comfortable.

Gabriel took Cas's arm and led him into the hallway. "Let's give the brothers a minute, okay?" He closed the door behind him.

"Them or us?"

"Both." Gabriel smiled at Castiel. He wanted to tell him how proud he was, but he settled for pulling Cas into a tight hug. "I'll see you around, but you probably won't see too much of me."

Castiel stepped back and held Gabriel at arms length. "I have so many questions," he began.

"I know. Aren't free will and curiosity great things?" Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. "I'd love to stay and discuss it all, but I can't. Literally. Most of the answers you want can't be spoken by anyone. It's something you either know or don't know. Metatron was a mouthpiece, if something was never spoken he didn't know about it. That was what killed him, Cas. Ignorance of his own ignorance. Now I've got a contract to renegotiate with Hell. Leave them to us, and if they get out of hand, well, you should know how to reach me."

"Gabriel..." Cas said as his brother walked away. He turned back expectantly. "Thanks. For everything." It was inadequate for all that he wanted to say, but it was all he could get out.

"Anytime, kiddo. Keep those two out of trouble, okay? I know it seems impossible, but..." He shrugged as he turned back to walk away towards the dungeon.

Castiel stared at the empty hallway until Sam cam out of Dean's room, turning the light off behind him. "He's out cold. Where'd Gabriel go?"

"Home," Cas said. "To his own section of Heaven."

"Look, I've got Dean, I can handle taking care of him, if you've got to go. I mean, Heaven's open again. Isn't that what you were working for?"

Cas shook his head. "Dean will need me when he wakes up. There are some things Gabriel isn't able to do to heal him." And, if he was honest with himself, he needed to make sure Dean was okay, had to see it with his own eyes before he could beive it. He smiled. "I can hear them."

"Who, the other angels?"

"Yes. There is more peace and harmony than there has been in thousands of years." Cas looked Sam directly in the eyes. "You and Dean have helped achieve that peace, and for that I want to thank you. Rest assured that when your time comes, you will be rewarded."

"I don't know about rewarded," Sam said, yawning, "but what I'd really like is more than a few hours sleep at a time."

"Of course. Go back to bed, if you'd like. I'll watch over Dean and care for him when he wakes up."

Sam nodded and yawned again, wandering off towards his room. "Wake me up if you need me. But, uh, don't need me for anything, okay?"

"Okay," Cas said. He stepped into Dean's room and closed the door. He had no need of the light in the room, and went to sit perched on the edge of the bed. Dean was not resting so quietly has Sam had led him to believe, he was lying on his left side twitching gently, trying to curl in on himself.

Cas reached out a hand and touched Dean's arm, which caused him to jerk back violently, nearly falling off the other side of the bed. Cas reached out and pulled Dean back. He moved to sit against the headboard with his legs outstretched on the bed, and arranged it so Dean's head was cushioned on his thigh.

Dean wrapped an arm protectively around Cas's legs and curled up close. His breath still hitched occasionally, and there was little stillness in his rest. He was a study in near constant motion, from the quiver in his legs to the bunching of the muscles along his back. At times he would let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

Castiel stroked Dean's back, trying to impart some sense of calm. He didn't dare try to do anything else to ease his obvious suffering until he could assess Dean's mental state and get his approval first. He had no idea what mind frame Gabriel had left in and could easily end up doing more harm than good.

Dean slowly fell into a more peaceful rest. After a few hours he stilled entirely. It wasn't the deep sleep Castiel had been hoping for, it was the stillness of a rabbit seeing the shadow of a hawk.

"Rest, Dean," he said, never stopping his hand from rubbing Dean's back.

"Cas?" Dean whispered tentatively.

"Yes, it's me. You're back at the bunker." Cas could feel the tension creeping back into Dean. "You're safe."

Dean's breathing quickened. He grabbed Cas's knee and gripped it tightly. Everything still hurt him, even thinking was causing bright flares of pain behind his eyes. "Help me," Dean gasped, nearly in tears.

Castiel's hand came up to rest gently on Dean's head. He closed his own eyes and prepared himself to take on Dean's pain. He could see it with his Grace, the pulsing and throbbing racing inside of him like a metaphysical venom. "Just breathe, Dean, as deeply as you can. I'm here, I'll take care of you."

He drew the remnants of the evil out as quickly as he could, but it was still concentrating it all in Dean's head. He could hear Dean begin to scream weakly beneath his hand, but if he stopped now it would be difficult to begin again. He only hoped it was not enough to wake Sam and bring him in, if Sam stopped him it would be even harder to begin again. The two of them would not let him start quickly enough for it to make a difference.

Dean was sobbing weakly before Castiel was finished. "No more, please stop," he kept begging weakly. "Please." Tears were streaming down his face and he was feebly trying to push Castiel's hand from his head.

Cas leaned down over his body and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Dean," he said, trying to soothe him. "It's over now." He pulled Dean up so he was sitting beside him, and cradled him in his arms. His wings wrapped around them reflexively, protecting the man he held, but even if Dean was conscious, he would likely not notice. He was nearly completely limp, still sobbing softly. Castiel could give him no comfort, he was still processing the evil he had pulled from Dean, and anything he did to help would only put that evil back inside him. He sat there in silence, holding Dean as he slowly fell back to sleep.

Several hours later the door opened and Sam came in with two cups of coffee. He set one down on the table and took a seat perched on the side of the bed. "How is he?"

"It was bad," Cas said. "Gabriel could only do so much, I had to finish it. I can't do any more to help him if he wakes up in pain again." He stroked Dean's head absently, hoping that would not be the case.

Sam nodded. "Gabriel left a note. Said you'd probably be out of it for a day or so from finishing the job. Let me know if I can do anything, okay?"

"Thank you, Sam," Cas said. He picked up the coffee and took a sip. "I will stay here with Dean until he wakes up. He may be asleep most of the day."

"Not if you don't shut up," Dean muttered from Cas's arms.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam reached out to put a hand on his back.

"No. Feel like crap. Go 'way."

Sam smiled and stood up. "Alright." He looked at Cas. "You know where to find me if you need me." Cas nodded in response and Sam left quietly, making sure the door was closed behind him.

"Cas," Dean said, still not moving.

"Yes, Dean?"

"Lay down."

"Yes, Dean." Cas scooted down the bed until he was laying flat, and Dean adjusted himself so he was curled up against him, his head on Cas's chest. Cas wrapped an arm around him, and kept adjusted his wings so they were tighter around Dean's body

"Hurts," Dean whispered.

Cas sighed and rubbed Dean's back. "I know. Gabriel is taking care of cleansing the First Blade and securing it. That should keep it from infecting you with its evil any further."

Dean could feel it, the tug of evil, trying to pull him in. It was hypnotic in a way, and even over this distance, he could point to the exact physical location of the blade. His hand itched to hold it again, and it burned when there was nothing there to grasp. He could feel its malevolence, as though it were alive and trying to draw him in closer. "Needs to hurry," Dean said, fighting to hold back the overwhelming pain. "I can't do this." Every breath brought a new wave of need coursing through him.

There was nothing Castiel could do at this point for Dean except try to get him to relax and go back to sleep. He was certain that with as agitated as Dean was, Gabriel was in the process of purifying the First Blade as well as he could. The connection between the Mark of Cain and the First Blade had never been studied by angels, they were all repulsed by the idea of such a thing, so it was unknown how much pull the Blade had over Dean at any time, or how affected he was by the cleansing. "Rest, Dean. Sleep. It will be over soon, I promise." Soon, of course, was a relative term. Even a year was soon to someone who had seen so many thousands, but it was the only promise he could be assured not to break.

Dean nodded weakly against Cas's body. It was comforting having him there, he knew Cas would do literally anything and everything to protect him. He felt strung out, like he had been going for five days without rest. He hadn't felt like this in over a decade, and it was terrible. Cas was rubbing his back, and it felt like a light blanket was pulled around him. Eventually he was able to relax well enough to drift off to sleep.


End file.
